


Fiona's Nightmare

by Nordic_Breeze



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Demento | Haunting Ground
Genre: Alchemy, Angst, Animal Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Heavy Angst, Mystery, Physical Abuse, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Terror, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, but with my own twists, close to the canon in the beginning, especially mid to end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-28 18:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 83,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18211847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nordic_Breeze/pseuds/Nordic_Breeze
Summary: Fiona's exploration of Belli castle, thoughts and feelings, fear, doubt and hope. Mostly Fiona POV, Daniella and Riccardo off-screen moments, the investigation of a double homocide and the mysterious disappearance of a young woman. In-depth character analysis. A Resident Evil crossover.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic originally posted on ff dot net. It's still there, but now as I'm using mostly AO3 I deceided to brush it off and upload an edited version. Haunting Ground was my very first proper fandom and I had so much fun writing this.

_**Azoth and so the term, which being originally a term for an occult formula sought by alchemists much like the philosopher's stone, became a poetic word for the element Mercury.** _

_**~*~** _

An ear-piercing scream stirred Fiona Belli from a deep, deep sleep. A scream from inside her head. She had been dreaming about an accident. Pictures of a car crash filled her head. Or was it not a dream, but her last memory before losing consciousness? She’d been in a car with… No, trying to remember was impossible. Everything was a blur. Where was she now? In a cage! Why? How? Was she still dreaming? No, this felt real. She was awake and had been placed in a small cage, like an animal, completely naked except for a thin, white sheet covering her trembling, white body.

Slender fingers around the bars, Fiona examined the unfamiliar surroundings, not liking at all what she saw. She found herself in a dark, moist and eerie room, loaded with disturbing elements and strange equipment. In the middle was a wooden table with butcher’s knives and a cut-up carcass. Fresh blood was dripping from the surface down on the stone-covert floor. On the opposite side was a beam with cadavers hanging from it. That explained the rotten stench. There seemed to be something else along the walls. Steel chains? The room was far too dark to make it out for sure. The only source of light was a few small windows right beneath the ceiling, meaning she was probably in an old basement of some sort. But what she had already seen was more than enough. She had to get out of this hellish place.

The cage was closed with a bolt which had a padlock attached. Though the padlock seemed to be open, thank God! Fiona tried to remove the padlock with the intention of getting out of this cold and horrible place as fast as possible, but with trembling fingers that was easier said than done. She sensed that someone had just been in here, someone who had dashed out screaming. When that someone came back, _she_ would not be here.

Stepping out of the rusty cage, clenching the sheet tight around her, Fiona was shivering from horror. The stench of mould and rotten meat, the sight of bits and pieces of what was once animals and the fresh blood dripping from the bench made her hair rise. Heart pounding, she slowly moved for the stairs on the opposite side of the cellar.

When she passed the horrifying table, she froze. A noise, from under the bench… clenching onto the sheet so hard her knuckles went white, she instinctively turned toward the alarming sound. And felt ice cold fear paralyzing her. Something was under there, under the bloody table top, eyes shimmering in the darkness. Scared stiff and unable to move, her heart pounding so hard her ribs were acing, Fiona realized it was now racing in _her direction_.

As the animal lounged towards her, she knew her time had come. She would die, alone and petrified, in this nightmare of a place, ripped to pieces by some unknown beast. She fell on her back screaming, knowing no one would come for her. It was over.

Just as she expected to feel the pain she was so sure would come, she caught glimpse of something white fleeing over her, leaping towards the stairs, longing for freedom and fresh air as much as she was. On her feet again, Fiona still felt shaky but also somewhat calmer. She was still alive. This nightmare was not going to get the best of her. Feeling her heart slowing down a little she rose to her feet, more than ready to leave this place for good and get home.

Her jade eyes were automatically drawn to something shiny on the floor. What was that? Something useful? She picked it up for a closer look. What had once been a dog’s collar was now ripped apart. The name tag read “Hewie”. The name of that strange creature which had just spurted past her? To agitated to think more about it she left the destroyed collar behind and started slowly ascending the dark and steep stairs. Not knowing what, or who, might be expecting her. Not knowing that for the next couple of hours she would have to fight for her life again and again…


	2. Where am I?

Ah, the feel of cool, fresh air caressing her skin and filling up her lungs was simply amazing. The bricks which she stood on felt cold against the soles of her feet. There were walls of stone all around her except to her left, so she started walking in that direction, onto moist grass, next to what appeared to be a huge building. The only sound was that of crows. Thankfully there was no wind so she didn’t freeze, but that wouldn’t last long. The sun was low and the sky already had the characteristic sunset-red colour. It was early autumn so the air would rapidly cool down. She had to find some clothes as soon as possible. She had to get inside that building.

While looking up at the huge walls to her sides, she wondered what sort of place she’d ended up at. _Where am I?_ When approaching a corner, she saw a huge tree to her left. It looked very old, but with well kempt branches. Around the corner, the first thing to stand out was a huge fountain right in front of her. Fiona had always had an interest in art, paintings and sculptures in particular, for as long as she could remember. Tilting her head, she studied the fine sculpture. _It looks like quite the antique._ So did the huge building to her right. Everything so far seemed to be very old, perhaps even medieval. But at least judging from the well-kempt tree behind her, there had to be someone around.

Fiona’s eyes moved from the sculpture to the building. The only means to enter was a flower-decorated staircase a few feet from where she stood, which ended at a door higher up. Fiona wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of walking into that strange, medieval-looking castle all alone but figured she didn’t have much of a choice. There were paths going both left and right of the fountain, to the right she could see some empty cages and to the left a closed door. Beyond there was only darkness. Though she wanted to get away as soon as possible she had no intention of walking around much longer in just that sheet, and there was far more likely she’d find clothes inside than outside. Up the stairs she went.

Up on the first floor she peered inside a panorama window, wondering what was on the other side. She could see light flickering from candles, but it was too dark to see anything else. She ascended to the second floor. There were no flowers decorating the sides here, just the banisters. The staircase ended at a blue door with panorama windows on either side. She slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

Fiona wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see, but from the old, clearly medieval appearance of the outside and the horrible room in which she’d woken up, she was prepared for the worst - and got a pleasant surprise for the first time since waking up. The room was warm and nice, not too big, not too small. The lower part of the walls was of stone and the upper half was made of wood. Attached to the ceiling was a huge wooden fan slowly rotating. To the right was a small wooden furniture piece and shelves filled with plants, books, different ornaments and something that was clearly not medieval - a small TV. In the middle of the room was a sitting area consisting of a sofa, two chairs and a table. Lining the walls were plants, paintings, tables, shelves and more ornaments. In the middle of the floor, three small steps led up to the other half of the room, the ‘bedroom part’. There was a grandfather’s clock, a fireplace, a bed, a chest with drawers, a floor lamp as well as more paintings and ornaments. There was also a door right next to the fireplace. Determined to find something to wear, she closed in on the door. _I can’t walk around in just these sheets,_ she reminded herself.  _Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather wear a normal set of clothes instead of these old sheets._ It would take more to lose her wits than being trapped alone in a strange medieval castle.

As she put her hand on the doorknob, she froze. An eerie feeling of being watched made the hairs on her neck stand up. She felt her skin tingle, a sensation caused by every small hair on her body rising in apprehension. There was no one in the room, yet the feeling of being watched grew stronger and stronger. Surely it was just her imagination. She turned her head slightly and felt her heart almost jump out of her chest. The sight of a woman right next to the bed, dressed in green and white nearly caused her to faint. Judging by her outfit, she was one of the castle maids. But where did she come from? How had she entered the room?

The woman stood still, with a hint of a smile she observed Fiona for a few seconds. When she finally spoke, it was with a low and monotone, almost mechanical voice.

“I’ve gathered some clothes for you” she said, pointing to the bed. Fiona was certain there had been nothing there a moment ago. Taking her gaze away from the young girl, the maid started inching towards the exit, her face completely devoid of feelings. Though she was blessed with a stunning, almost unreal beauty, the woman was moving with staggering and awkward, almost robotic like steps. Fiona felt her apprehension growing and backed away as the woman came closer. There was something odd about her. But she also desperately wanted to know what was going on, and there was no one else to ask.

“Wait, don’t go.” she said, hoping she wouldn’t regret it. The maid stopped, and slowly turned her head to look at her. She was perfect; Fiona couldn’t spot a single flaw anywhere. In fact, she was the most beautiful woman Fiona had ever seen. She had lavender coloured hair which fell nicely over her face covering the right eye and curled over her shoulders.

“Um, excuse me, but where are we?” she asked softly. “And how did I get here?”

Instead of answering the bewildered young girl’s questions, the maid shifted her gaze to a point slightly over Fiona’s left shoulder.

The woman spoke with the same mechanical voice. “Yes, master… we will keep her here for a while… I will make sure she stays _comfortable_.”

Fiona turned in the direction the maid was staring. To a portrait of a middle-aged man Fiona had noticed when walking towards the door earlier. Her eyes wandered over the painting. Why had she...? Then a flash of memory. A faceless silhouette staring down at her. She felt light-headed all of a sudden. Within seconds she fell to the floor, hyperventilating. She didn’t know what, who or when, but she sensed fear. When her breathing had returned to normal, she noticed the maid was now gone.


	3. Starting to Remember

Alone again, Fiona stood and walked up to the bed. At least she had something to wear now. The clothing was neatly pressed and folded, there was not a single wrinkle on them. She stretched out her hand and touched the fabric. It felt soft and delicate, as if made of Egyptian cotton and fine silk. Again, she felt the tingling sensation of being watched, but this time she was sure she was alone in the room. She dropped the sheet, allowing it to completely fall to the floor and started to dress immediately in case anyone else would enter the room. The garment turned out to be a lovely, medieval style dress with long, puffy sleeves with a detailed embroidery on the chest and around the waist. The upper part was a creamy white blouse with some dark-greenish repetitive pattern across the chest and on the sleeves just above and below the elbows and at the wrists. It was made of the finest cotton she’d ever felt. A cerulean blue jewel was attached to the chest. The lower part consisted of a purple, semi-transparent skirt and silk underwear. She fastened the clothing with a blue silk-ribbon at the back. The piece was almost like tailor made for her. Except for some tightness at the chest area. it clung perfectly to her figure. She was used to that. A size 4 and a double D cup was not a good combination when it came to upper part clothing.

Suddenly she noticed something on the bed, almost hidden between the sheets. She picked it up and gasped. It was one of her most precious belongings. She instinctively touched her bare neck. She hadn’t even noticed it being gone. In her hand she held the present from her parents on her sweet sixteen birthday, a choker of brown leather with a jade stone attached. Her mother had told her it brought out the colour of her eyes. She’d been wearing it every day since. Why was it here? Where were her clothes? There was also a pair of knee-length, dark socks accompanied by a pair of brown knee-high boots on the floor with patterns on the sides, like the blouse. She slipped on the socks and zipped up the footwear. _Much better._ She felt the new garments on her figure. No doubt someone had put a lot of hard work into making it. And it was definitely not centuries ago. On the contrary, despite the medieval style Fiona suspected it was made quite recently. She was also certain she was the first to wear it.

“Wait a minute!”

It came out aloud. Maybe it was the sight of her choker that had triggered a memory. Combined with the strong feeling she’d had when looking at that painting a moment ago. Stepping towards the picture, she started to remember. She’s been in a car, with her parents, Ugo and Ayla. Eighteen, soon-to-be-nineteen-year-old Fiona had recently started college and it had been the first time she’d seen them in weeks. They’d decided to go away for the weekend, where she couldn’t remember, but not _this place_. So why was she here now? Where were her parents? And what was the man in the painting’s role in this? It was a powerful piece of art indeed. The man looked to be on his 50‘s, dressed in old-fashioned clothing with the kind of eyes that peering deep into one’s soul. Turning around, she stepped up to another portrait on the opposite wall, of a much younger man in a blue cloak with white collar. He was in his 30’s, handsome and with hazel hair. As Fiona was wondering whose portrait it was, the feeling of having seen that person somewhere before grew stronger and stronger. But that didn’t make any sense.

Despite her age, Fiona knew quite a lot about art, currently attending a course in ancient-medieval art and poetry at college. She was very much looking forward to the Renaissance period in the next semester, her favourite. Though she loved every second, she had doubts about her future career. Her love and passion for the artistic, however strong, felt more like a hobby while trying to figure out what she really wanted to do with her life. She wanted to work with humans or animals, to make a difference, in other people’s lives. A veterinarian perhaps, or a nurse, though she was leaning mostly towards the former. Quite shy since childhood, Fiona had always thought it was easier to bond with animals than humans and she’d been volunteering at an animal shelter since she was fourteen. The only problem was that as a vet you have to put animals to sleep, and she strongly doubted she had it in her to do so. Thankfully, her parents understood, choosing a career is an important decision that should in no way be rushed. However, as Ugo had pointed out, college is expensive, so she had to decide before next year.

Outside the sky had turned brighter red. The sun had started to set and with it will come night. Her parents were probably somewhere in the castle too, she’d have find a map over the area and cover as much of the castle as possible before dark. She hurried towards the door but stopped in her tracks when she noticed the painting on the other side of the sitting area on the lower part of the room. She felt something tingle. Could it be…? She needed a closer look to be sure. She stepped down to the lower part, past a pair of decorating scales, around the sitting area and went past an empty birdcage and a bisque doll she’d just noticed and closed in on the painting. It was that of a very young man with a noble air around him. Yep, she’d been correct. Though the man was much younger here, perhaps her age, it was no mistake that the three paintings were of the same person. When passing the middle-aged man again on her way back she was certain, every painting featured the same person. Perhaps the lord of the castle? Or had been centuries ago.

She opened the door next to the fireplace and went through. Time to start exploring.


	4. The First Look at the Castle

On the other side, Fiona found herself in a small hallway with a descending staircase to the right and a wooden door to her left. Fiona walked up to a window next to the stairs, stretching her neck and peering out. It was darkening fast making the view dim, but she was certain she could make out the shape of a building in the distance. She felt a little jump in her chest. Maybe this place wasn’t as deserted as she’d initially thought. The TV, the rotating fan and the lamps meant electricity, which again meant the castle was connected to a power station, meaning contact with the outside world and civilization. Her spirit high, she descended the staircase and even took a few seconds to study another magnificent piece of art, two beautiful paintings of people folding their hands in prayers, likely a set of twin paintings. At the bottom of the steps there was nothing but a locked door and a small storage area. _Darn, just my luck_. _I’d better try my luck upstairs_. Jogging up the steps again she glanced one more time at the pictures.

“If I had the time, I’d like to spend more time taking in the painting’s full beauty and artistic splendour.”

Passing the small windows again she re-assured herself that there was civilization close by. The only other means to get electricity was through a generator, but to feed a huge building like this with enough power would require a huge generator so surely that couldn’t be the case, could it?

On the other side of the door Fiona found herself in an arching hallway. Columns with leaves growing on them lined the left side. It was quite a beautiful sight. Hm, it appeared one of them had a crimson tinge at its bottom. She closed in on it, and immediately wished she hadn’t. The horrible sight meeting her made her go ice cold. It was smeared with blood! She could feel her skin tingle again; hairs rising caused by flushes of adrenaline. Droplets of recently coagulated blood were on the sides and on the floor too. Why is it blood here? Did she want to know? She forced her eyes away from the appalling sight and focused on a door on the other side. It too, was locked. She had to force herself to think about something else, to focus on the main objective for now; to cover as much of the castle as she possible could before darkness set in. And in order to do that she needed a map.

“There seems to be a lot of locked doors around here, if I find any keys, I’d better take them with me just in case,” she agreed with herself.

A but further down the hallway she passed another wooden door, this one open. Fiona figured she couldn’t be too careful in a place like this and warily peeked inside to not alarm any possible inhabitants who might be hostile. Nor did she want to walk up to another gruesome sight. But the room seemed perfectly normal. The walls were lined with book-filled shelves. At the far end was a blackboard with some notes scribbled on it, a chair and a desk. The castle study, obviously. Curious, Fiona entered the room to get a better look at the blackboard and the desktop but then she heard a sound. Ears sharpened, she turned towards the noise, coming from further down the hallway.

A few steps towards the unidentified sound Fiona realized it came from a human. It sounded like heavy breading, almost like panting. Was someone hurt? Reaching a corner, she slowed down. The path continued to the right. To the left was oa small table, a chair and a door blocked by a box. Carefully, she peeked around the corner. A shadow… a huge being… then suddenly… movement.

It must have been because she was alone in this unknown place, worried about her parents, or perhaps the horrible sights of blood from before. Her nerves were on the edge. A doll came flying past her and made her jump so hard she tripped and landed on her bum. But what came next was more than enough reason to be scared. The shadow grew bigger and bigger as its owner came closer. It belonged to an enormous disfigured man, a creature at least two and a half meters in length with a large mass and a nearly bald head that looked ridiculously small compared to the marble round dark eyes and the huge, deformed body. His clothes were covered in filth and blood and it was obvious, even from several feet away, that personal hygiene was unknown terms to the creature.

As it bent down to pick up the doll, Fiona noticed a set of keys attached to his belt but trying to grab them was too risky. Holding the doll in his hand, his attention swayed between Fiona and the scruffy piece of filth and broken porcelain that had once been a lovely bisque doll. Fiona was still on the floor, not sure what to do. He appeared to be harmless enough, but you could never know. Especially in this place where one place would seem perfectly normal and the next would be all blood stained and grotesque. Seconds later she knew…

The creature threw away the toy and turned his full attention towards Fiona. He started to growl like a beast, raising his hands in excitement. Adrenaline racing through her veins again, Fiona was quick to get to her feet, running in the opposite direction, praying the creature wouldn’t follow her. He did. _It seems like he’d rather play with me than that doll of his, but I have no plans to stick around for that._ She ran the only way she knew, back to the room where she’d found the clothes, slamming the door shut.

Now what?

 _If I don’t do something that… thing is going to get me._ Gifted with the ability of quick and rational thinking even in stressful situations, a gift she would heavily rely on for the next couple of hours, she knew she had a better chance of finding a nearby hiding spot in the area she’d already covered than running outside where she didn’t know the paths and risked getting either trapped or lost. Besides, he didn’t seem to be that bright. She figured her best bet was to hide under the bed.

A slamming of the door then footsteps, _he_ was in the room. Fiona was so scared she didn’t even dare to breathe. Her heart racing, she was sure he could hear the beats. He was tramping around in the room, growing more frustrated every minute. _My dolly. Where is you?_ Fiona felt sure he’d find her any moment, but he didn’t. Two minutes later, though it felt like two hours, he went out the door where Fiona had first entered, exiting the castle.

She waited for a couple of more minutes before she dared crawling out. Partly to be sure he was gone, partly to calm down. No way was she going to exit the same door he had, so she went back to where she’d been when she ran into the beast. Back in the corridor, when she felt she had enough distance, she started jogging to the end of the hallway careful not to look at that blood-stained column. When she reached the place where she’d encountered the creature, she turned right, into a dark and dusty corridor. A broken chandelier dangling from the ceiling made an eerie, squeaky sound. It wasn’t a place she wanted to go. It seemed to be a dead end too. There were windows here too, Fiona was hoping to spot another building, but it was way t dark to see. The sun was setting fast. She pushed the box out of the way and opened the door. When she was on the other side of the room, she felt even more puzzled, but at least one thing was certain. This place would never cease to weird her out.

The room in which she now found herself appeared to be some kind of medieval laboratory. In the middle was a table filled with strange equipment. They looked quite old; still someone had been taken painstakingly good care of them. A fire was burning with an intense heat. With a temperature that high, it could only be used for refining. The walls were lined with more old, strange looking equipment and books about refinement and alchemy. There was another door in the room, but it was blocked by a huge sculpture made of… _earth???_ That huge thing would be impossible to move for someone as petite as her. Another dead end. Or was it? It had a slot-shaped hole on its chest, a recess that something thin and flat would fit into. Her eyes scanned the room. _I wonder if there isn’t a way for me to move this._ A strange, crimson mark was painted on the wall at each side of the sculpture. There was something about them that made her feel uneasy. Her eyes finally fell on an old document lying on the table. The edges were curled, and it had been discoloured from time, but the writing was still legible – it was a description of the thing that was blocking the door. _A deciphering of the book of origins, Seferm Yetira, has uncovered the process for creating ‘life from earth-soil’. This golem needs neither nourishment nor sleep making this earthen guardian the ultimate safe-keeper of our deepest alchemic secrets and knowledge. I dub this creature EMETH._ So, it appeared the statue of soil was a golem, a guardian of secrets. She wandered around the room. There was nothing labelled _Golem_ or _Emeth_. Nor did she see anything that would fit into the chest-slot. Did she really have to go into the dark and gloomy corridor? It was the only accessible place where she hadn’t searched yet and she had to find a way to move the golem. There had to be an important reason it was there in the first place.

She hurried past the dangling chandelier and found herself next to a door at the end of the hallway facing yet another painting, this time of a woman with wings protruding from her back. An angel? The handle was rusty and coated with dust, and there were no fingerprints to be seen meaning no one had used that door for quite some time. The hinges were rusty too. She could only hope the huge creature from earlier wasn’t nearby… listening, lurking. She was yet again inside one of the castle’s many rooms, this one abandoned years ago. There was no light, just a few rays of stray sunlight from the outside. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere; the maid had obviously not been cleaning here for a while. She dubbed it the forgotten room. In the ceiling there had once been a magnificent chandelier, but it was now on the floor in pieces. What could’ve happened? Fiona carefully stepped inside. A ‘mind your footing’-sign would’ve been useful. Many of the tiles had loosened and shifted out of place. Near one of the windows stood a birdcage like the one Fiona had seen in the castle suite. But this one was not empty. She could see the remaining husk of a bird - impossible to tell what sort, in the cage. It too, had been forgotten.

“The terrible things people do to animals these days,” she thought. “It’s just so upsetting.”

There was nothing that could be done about it now. She passed a couple of chairs and up to - whatever it was. What sort of contraption was this? Not a computer that was for sure. It had alphabetic keys, though including an enter key. She’d never find out anything if she didn’t dare to try. She decided to write her name. F - I - O - N - A – ENTER. The device made a loud sound making Fiona jump, and shot out a thin plate. She carefully picked it up. It was very thin and flat and held her name. _Why build a machine for this sole purpose?_ She still had the old parchment with her. Peering down on both items, she felt something clicked. _That slot on the golem…could it be…_ It was worth a try, but what to print, golem or emeth? She opted for the latter one since it had been in bold letters. E - M - E - T - H - ENTER, cling! Leaving the other plate and the parchment behind, she hurried back to the golem.

The plate fit perfectly into the slot, and the golem started to move, stepping away from the door, to the left and coming to a still. Fiona wondered what sort of mechanic there was inside the thing and how it worked. Not to mention what was on the other side of the door. She turned the handle and found herself outside, on an empty porch. So this was the deep alchemic secret that had to be guarded by the golem. The only logical explanation was that the golem was guarding whatever was on the inside rather than on the outside. Then again, noting about this place was logical so there was no way to be sure.

At the end of the porch was a staircase, ending abruptly half way down. Yep, nothing logical about this place indeed. The more Fiona starred over the edge, the more she got the feeling of being sucked down. Thankfully, there was a ladder she could climb instead. Down on the ground she found herself in a small, closed-up area. Not much down here. A sealed well, a bench which faced the wall and two doors, the left one locked and the right one unlocked. Easy choice. She didn’t close the door in case she had to flee again. She made a left turn, then a right until she found herself in another small, closed-off outside area. There were red barrels to the left, a door guarded by goddess statues on both sides to her right and a wooden gate straight ahead. There seemed to be a path on the other side, but it was securely shut. She had to find another way.

Bummed, she opened the door. Then she heard it. First, she thought it was all in her head, but now there was no doubt. Someone was playing a piano on the other side. Ear on door she listened carefully. She recognized the tune as Liebestraume Notturno by the Austrian-Hungarian composer and pianist Franz Liszt, one of her favourite classical pieces. She’d played it so many times she’d memorized it. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy contemporary music, she most certainly did, but classical pieces had this calming and soothing effect no other music genre could offer. She’d danced ballet since she was 5 and played the piano since the age of 10. Regrettably, she had no longer time for ballet classes after starting college.

Door opened she stepped into another unknown room, passing a large and bulky harp to her right and walked up to a small table in the middle of the room. Covering the windows were huge, purple curtains Different musical instruments and books about music made up most of the area, but there was no piano in sight. The music came from upstairs. There were no stairs either. Fiona wondered how the person playing had accessed the upper level. And more importantly, had he noticed her? The music ended, and whoever was up there started playing the same piece again. Fiona was curious, but at the same time dubious. She doubted that neither the _thing_ nor the maid could play pieces like that, meaning there must be yet another person inhabiting the castle. The lord, perhaps? Should she speak, should she keep silent? Her gaze shifted to something in one of the chairs, a statue judging by the shape of the sheet covering it. She probably shouldn’t snoop. She noticed a sturdy bookshelf of fine design and on the round table a key. Deciding to stay silent, she stretched out her hand in order to grab the key and head out before the person playing had noticed her. She was too late. She heard the terrible noise of someone striking all ten fingers simultaneously at the keys, and sensed, more than saw or heard, someone rising, stepping away from the piano. Then she heard a deep, masculine voice:

“Ah, Fiona. I see you’ve finally awakened.”

 


	5. Riccardo

She stretched her neck, trying to get a glimpse of the man speaking, but she saw nothing. She was certain she’d never heard that voice before; nevertheless, there was something familiar about it. He knew her name. Was _he_ the one who had brought her to this place? If so, then he probably knew the whereabouts of her parents!

“There’s something that I’ve wanted to show you for quite some time,” he informed, stressing the word _time._ “Pull away that sheet behind you.”

She hesitated, _what could he possibly have wanted to show me...?_ Warily, a hand on her chest she slowly circled the table. Thought somewhat curious, she wasn’t exceptionally excited about uncovering whatever was underneath the cloth. Most of all, she wanted to grab the key move on, but she was afraid that if she didn’t do as he said, he’d come down from wherever he was and hunt her down.

When she was next to the statue, she stretched out her right hand and quickly pulled away the sheet. She got the shock of her life. She stood there, paralyzed and unable to stop staring at the uncovered figure. The man however, sounded quite happy with the situation. He spoke again, either oblivious to or uncaring about how upsetting this was for her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

It felt like her feet were glued to the floor. Both hands on her stomach, she started to feel nauseous. Beautiful? _Why would anyone in their right mind put something like this here?!?_ What he said next made her stomach turn.

“ _That_ my dear, is what you will become in the future.”

_Hell no!_

“Go ahead, you may touch it.” Soft tone, but still callous. The monologue ended with a ruthless _“You will be mine, Fiona,”_ followed by a sinister laughter, then dead silence.

What she’d just seen and heard made her skin crawl. There was no longer any doubt; she had to get out of her before it was too late. The statue itself may not have been particularly upsetting, but for Fiona it was more horrifying than both the blood-stained column and the butchered animals. It was that of a young female, not unlike Fiona herself. What gave her the creeps was the fact that the young woman was pregnant. Fiona thought about the man’s words and their implications. Was this a sick joke? Or a terrible nightmare? Either way, none of this would happen, she would not get pregnant here and she’d certainly never be _his._ She grabbed the key and hurried for the door.

~*~

The stranger, who went by the name Riccardo, stood next to the piano with a smug grin on his face. From there, he was able to see Fiona perfectly. _This couldn’t have worked out better even if I’d planned it myself_ , he thought. Did she steal something from the table? A key perhaps? Debilitas, the castle’s gardener and handyman, was usually conscientious; though not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. He had the habit of leaving keys everywhere. Once, Riccardo had found the key to one of his desk drawers on the ground under the laundry room on the other side of the castle. Go figure.

He was quite pleased to see that she was wearing the dress he’d have made especially for her. From endless photos he’d taken over the last three years, he’d estimated her measures and ordered the maid, Daniella, to sew a beautiful medieval-style dress. The design was his own, his welcoming gift to her. It was also the first step in the process of having her realize she now belonged here. The sooner she accepted her destiny, the better for them both. The next step now was to properly introduce himself to her and deliver the sad news about her parents…

When he heard the door slam, he walked up to the banister and peered down. He stood a few seconds to saviour the moment. He’d spent such a long time on that sculpture, and every second he’d been looking forward to this precise moment, wondering about how she’d react when she finally saw it. Now the time had finally come, after years of planning and preparing, spying and endless waiting she was finally here to be his - forever.

Although he’d been rather surprised to see her down there, he thought he’d handled the unexpected situation rather well. He’d intended to show her the sculpture himself later tonight. His plan had been to give the young lass a private tour around the castle after supper, though it seemed she was quite capable of showing herself around. He’d rather have her reading or watching TV in the suite for the time being, but he figured he couldn’t deny her to walk around. This was after all, her castle too.

He started to walk towards a thick, purple curtains. It seemed to be a dead end, but behind the curtain was a hidden, narrow staircase down to the lower level. For now, he wanted to keep the door to his left locked. When he lifted the curtain, dust filled the air and made him sneeze. The fabric was so old it didn’t take much handling to tear the cloth apart. This was one of many areas the maid was forbidden to enter. As he descended the stairs, something began to puzzle him. In all his excitement, he hadn’t really thought about it before now. How had she gotten down there in the first place? The door that led into the dining room was locked; he’d given strict order to both Debilitas and Daniella to keep it shut until supper time. There was no way she’d opened the barrier outside, the golem blocked the door in the refining room, so how had she...? He assessed the possibilities. His subordinates knew better than to disobey him and there was no way she could possibly have moved the golem, at least not by muscle force. Not even Debilitas was strong enough to do that. The only way to move the golem… could she have…? It was the most likely scenario, but then she must have…

As he pulled away the curtain on the ground floor and stepped into the light again, he realized how she’d done it. It was such a long time since he’d been doing research up there, he’d completely forgotten about the old parchment. It was probably still lying on the table in the refining room. And the plate-pressing machine _was_ nearby. Annoyed by his own carelessness, he decided to check the rest of the castle just in case anything else had slipped his mind. _The forgotten room,_ it was years since he’d last been in there. No one had. It was actually good news, he needed to speak with the maid later, in private, without the old man eavesdropping. The forgotten room was the perfect place.

He stepped up to the sculpture of Fiona and touched the pregnant belly. _Soon_ , he thought to himself. In all honesty, he was more than a little bit impressed. She’d found both the document and the plate-pressing machine and had obviously put two and two together. _Clever girl_. Just like her father, Ugo. Unexpected, but nothing to worry about. It wasn’t his first surprise these last twenty-four hours. Everything would proceed according to plan; the time line had just changed somewhat that was all.

He put his hand inside his hooded sweater and between spheres of antimony, weeping stones and other oddities created by alchemy he found what he was looking for. In his hand he held a glass vial, dancing purple orbs inside. He didn’t think there’d be any more surprises, but just in case… Outside he opened the vial and watched the orbs fly out and into the air heading left. The smirk reappeared on his face. The luminessants wouldn’t hurt Fiona, but if she decided to wander off again, the bugs would reveal her whereabouts.

~*~

Back in the small garden with the covered-up well, Fiona decided to try her luck on the locked door. The key was labelled _garden key_ and she was in a garden. Sort of. She put in the key and turned around. _Click_. The now unlocked door led her into the castle again. When she was about to open it, Fiona noticed a strange, flying purple orb to her right. It looked like some sort of firefly or damselfly, but then again not. She’d never seen or heard of a bug with such an intense, purple glow, though it was very beautiful whatever it was. The orb came closer and closer, it was almost like it was heading straight towards her, how curious. She stretched out her hand to wave it away when the pain hit her. As the orb met her face, she felt a powerful electric shock paralysing her for a short second and made her heart beat irregularly.

Rubbing her temple, she hurried inside and closed the door in case there were more of them. _What was that thing?_

Inside the castle again, she stood in a small, almost empty place with a corridor to her left. To her right, stood a chair inside an indentation in the wall. _What an odd place to put a chair_. There was no table, phone, or anything like that next to it. _It’s just a normal chair, right?_ Repeatedly encountering oddities made Fiona feel more than a bit uneasy. She passed a grandfather clock like the one she had seen in the suite, and a red door with no handle, knob or keyhole, wondering how to unlock it.

At the end of the hallway, there was a restroom. Fiona had some water and curiously studied the modern-looking water closets. She went through the only other door in the area and entered the kitchen. Meat was obviously on the menu that night. The sight of the large meaty lumps and the numerous sharp knives reminded her of the place in which she’d woken up. She felt chills down her spine. But besides the fact that the bench looked like a butcher’s workbench, the rest of the kitchen appeared to be normal -mostly. There was even a refrigerator and an oven at the other side of the bench. An empty pot stood on top of the oven. The sink next to the oven was caked in a thick-reddish-black discoloration. Once again, she had this eerie feeling something was amiss. She disliked this place more and more by the minute.

On her way to a door on the opposite wall, Fiona passed shelves filled with varied ornate and high-class china. They had all been polished to sparkling perfection. _The building itself may be old_ , Fiona thought. _But the interior seems to have been put through a punctilious and precise regimen of daily cleaning._

The kitchen led logically enough into the dining room. There were huge red curtains draping the windows, small ornaments and pictures alongside the walls and, of course, a long dining table covered by a red cloth. There was only one chair at each narrow side of the table, but a great number of candlesticks on top. Way too many candlesticks. She walked towards yet another door at the end of the room while studying a large tapestry suspended on the wall. An embroidery of one of the castle’s crests perhaps?

The door was locked but luckily, this time the key was in the key hole. She unlocked and opened the door. Fiona got quite surprised when she saw a familiar area; the stairs and the parallel paintings. She jumped when she heard footsteps tramping upstairs. The encounter with the creature fresh in mind, she decided to not take any chances. She closed the door quickly, but quietly, and ran towards the kitchen again. _What to do now?_ Then she noticed a path down to a lower level. She had not seen it when she first entered the kitchen as it had been out of her peripheral vision.

The path led down to a bodega. Numerous expensive spirits stretched along the racks. _Come to think of it, my father is quite the wine connoisseur_ , Fiona remembered. Her parents preferred to keep a low profile, her father working as a handyman/freelancer and her mother as a translator. However, as Ugo was one of England’s best wine experts, keeping a low profile wasn’t always easy. He’d even been on national TV. When Fiona had asked her father why they didn’t want permanent employments he’d simply answered they didn’t like being tied up. They wanted the freedom to just take off and leave. They hardly ever acted on it, though.

On a small table in the middle of the wine cellar laid a piece of yellow paper that caught Fiona’s interest. A hand-drawn sketch of the building labelled _Belli castle._ Her last name was Belli. This wasn’t just a coincidence, was it? She didn’t know much about her family; her parents, especially her father, had always been secretive about that subject. She’d learned it was best not to ask. But now she had to know. “I _must_ find my parents,” she thought and stuffed the sketch inside her boot and headed back to the kitchen. She remembered to late. The footsteps. She froze; maybe she should’ve hid down in the bodega a few minutes longer. But then again, there was no time to lose. She listened carefully, slowly inching towards the kitchen desk. _What was that?_ She let out a small gasp. Was there someone in the room? She kept moving, eyes frantically scanning the area. When she reached the counter, she placed her hand on a wooden pillar. She listened carefully but heard nothing. She moved her hand from the pillar to the desk, tracing it with her hand as she continued walking. Still nothing. Her pulse calming down, she drew a deep breath and exhaled, relieved. It must’ve been her imagination. A second later she found out she’d been wrong, deadly wrong. The beast from earlier came out from behind the counter, threatening, screaming, arms waving. Fiona froze in horror and stared at him, shocked and disgusted. The beast was now within two inches of her face, grunting, growling like an animal. Fiona could smell its stench as its excitement build up. She reacted instinctively. When she jumped away a fraction of a second before the monster grabbed her it was pure reflex. She landed on her back again, but this time she didn’t stay down. She rose as quickly as she could and staggered towards the closest door, the one leading out to the corridor. She could hear the beast waving its arm trying to catch her.

She could hardly use her feet when she slammed the door shut. She felt panic rise inside her. For a short moment, she just stood there motionless. _You have to get away,_ said a voice inside her. Fiona wasn’t sure if it was her own voice, but she ran to the right as she knew the left path was a dead end. But she was too shaken, she stumbled on a broken tile and fell hard. She felt a jolt in her ankle. _Oh, no what now!_

Rubbing her ankle, she moaned in pain when she touched the sore parts. It didn’t seem to be serious, but she couldn’t run on it. Not without some rest anyway. She lifted her gaze and felt panic rise again when she saw the doorknob move. She forgot all about the pain. _The beast was now in the corridor._ He turned towards her and when he saw Fiona again, he opened his mouth wide and let out a growl. He raised his hands and started stepping towards her, undoubtedly ecstatic because he’d found her once again. Fiona struggled to get control over her arms and legs as she staggered away from the monster. First on all four, then she finally managed to rise to her feet. But she didn’t get far. The pain in her ankle stopped her after a few steps.

She was almost at the garden entrance. Was that a shadow? By the door? She stretched her neck to get a closer look. She saw no one, but she was certain somebody was there. Behind her, on the other hand, there was undoubtedly someone. A monster, a beast clearly wanting to hurt her. She could hear panting again. It was right behind her. She turned and there it was. She noticed one of its incisors missing. She tried to speak but could only make a pitiful sound. She raised her hands as to protect herself and tried to back away, but her ankle refused to carry her weight. She was completely defenceless and could only pray for a miracle. The beast lifted its hands…

_“Exire Debilitas!”_

They both jumped at the deep, male voice behind them. Harsh, strict and authoritative. Fiona turned to see who was speaking but saw no one. She turned to the best. The voice clearly belonged to someone he respected. He lowered his hand and turned, grunting. Before he walked away, he turned his head to look at Fiona one last time, disillusioned. Fiona, still shaken, watched him disappear down the corridor.

“Please excuse me miss.” the voice speaking again made her turn. The shadow she’d seen only minutes ago stepped out from the darkness. Ten feet down the corridor stood a hooded man, dressed in a brown monk like costume. He was of average height and mass.

“I am Riccardo, keeper of the castle.”

It was the same person who had been speaking in the music room, the stranger with the familiar, but at the same time un-familiar voice. Fiona stood still; not knowing what to do besides trying to remember why the voice sounded familiar. What he said next made her forget all about that for a long time.

“So sorry to hear about your accident. Your parents…”

Accident? Her parents? Another flashback. The accident! She’d been there, in the backseat of a car. It was been night; the screams from her parents and her own filled her head. The car was racing way to fast. Her father lost control over it. Moments later, the front window smashed into pieces.

“As Master Ugo and Mistress Ayla are both deceased you, Miss Fiona are the sole surviving _heir_ of Belli castle.”

Yet another flashback. This one clearer. This time it was daylight. They’d been driving for hours. Her mother turned around to ask her if she was comfortable. She remembered the warm smile, the love in her eyes. Her mother holding her father’s hand as he was switching gears. For Ayla Belli, the family was her life. Fiona had never met anyone so loving towards one another as her parents, so happy together, so much in love even after eighteen years of marriage. And Fiona, their only child, was everything to them. They were the kindest people on the planet; they were all that Fiona had in this world. What _he_ was saying couldn’t be true, he was wrong. She felt dizzy; the world was spinning more and more. She touched her head with both hands. _Make it go away, make all of this go away._

“Are you in pain, Miss?” she heard the voice ask with faked concern. “Will you be all right?”

She felt her feet give in; they could no longer hold her weight. She fought to stay conscious, a fight she would soon loose. She could still hear the stranger talking, but he sounded so far away.

“You’ve had a long day. Please rest upstairs.”

The last thing Fiona heard was “your bed had been prepared.” Then everything went black.


	6. The "Accident"

Riccardo had assumed the news about her parents’ death would devastate her, but not that she’d conveniently faint. Good, that would keep her in the suite for a while. He walked up to the unconscious girl, her face and lips as pale as snow. He bent down and felt her skin. It was cold and clammy from cold-sweating, typical signs of loss in blood pressure caused by mental trauma. The epinephrine had made her heart beat so fast it hadn’t been able to support enough blood flow to the brain. The youngster had been scared stiff of Debilitas, poor, silly girl. When the creature got excited to the point of being threatening, all you had to do was give him a hard smack and he’d instantly know who was in charge. When you knew how to handle him, he was harmless

He took the lass in his arms and rose. He grunted and cursed when he almost dropped her. Lifting and carrying an unconscious person is never easy, not even petite Fiona Belli. He thought about the first time he’d been holding her in his arms. It had been early yesterday evening, almost exactly 24 hours ago in Provence, France. Crossing the Italian-French border had been risky, but the only way to get her to Belli castle, which he’d been working so hard for these last years. The risk had been well worth taking.

With a grin on his face, he carried the young woman back to the suite, thinking about how one second had changed his life so completely, how one unfortunate event had led to something - as great as _this._ He hadn’t believed in these sorts of things before, but a certain incident had changed his mind forever. The Belli estate is situated in a rural area well inside one of the many National Wildlife Refugees in Piedmont, Italy. It was a good two-hour drive to the nearest village and hardly anyone knew about the existence of the estate and those who did thought it had been unoccupied for centuries. Just the way the castle’s inhabitants wanted it. And if a lost backpacker should stumble upon the walls of Belli castle, he probably wouldn’t think much of it. Piedmont is filled with medieval architecture; no one would take notice of yet another ancient castle. Meaning Riccardo was free to carry out his research undisturbed.

However, he was forced to occasionally make the odd trip to a nearby community to buy miscellaneous items; groceries and supplies like salt, different chemicals, etc. He kept it at a minimum, almost two years between visits wasn’t uncommon. He’d gotten quite a shock a few years back when he was about to pay for some groceries and the cashier informed him, he didn’t accept lire anymore. He would only accepted payment in Euro, the new currency. The change in currency had been internationally agreed on by some organization called the European Union. Riccardo had felt like an idiot, he hated to feel like an idiot. It was then he realised he had to pay at least some attention to the outside world. Reluctantly, he bought two TV’s, paid the sales clerk extra to ‘forget’ the paperwork and stole signals from a satellite. Although the reception wasn’t the best here in the middle of nowhere, sometimes the signal could be gone for days. But it didn’t matter; he only watched the occasional news broadcast. However, the TV had turned out to be quite the blessing. One day he felt under the weather and in no mood to work or study, so he spent the day watching a documentary about the science of spirits and wine, how different chemicals in alcoholic beverages alter the taste. One of England’s finest wine connoisseurs was interviewed. Riccardo had nearly fallen to the floor when he saw Ugo Belli. By pure chance. It had gone nearly 15 years since he’d last seen the man, but it was him all right. Why he hadn’t changed his name was beyond Riccardo.

With aid from private investigators Riccardo had been spying on the unsuspecting Belli family, Fiona in particular, for the last three years, waiting for his chance. When he learned Ugo was planning a family holiday in France, just a few hours from Belli castle, he saw his chance.

When he reached the stairs, he had to take a pause. Sweat was already starting to break on his forehead. Well into his 40’s, he was no youth anymore. He sat down on the steps and placed Fiona on his knee and leaned her face to his chest. Her skin smelled like lavender, just like her mother’s, Ayla. The young girl looked very much like Ayla indeed. The same platina blond hair tucked away in a pony tail, the same features. There wasn’t much Belli in her, not in appearance anyway. He bent her torso forward to look once again at the red birth mark on her back and felt a buzz of excitement. And something else, a feeling he couldn’t quite recognize. Happiness perhaps, for the first time in his life he felt truly happy.

 _“Azoth…”_ he said under his breath.

While sitting on the steps with the unconscious Fiona, he relived last night again. Disguised in his black cloak and a hat he’d been driving behind them for a while, out of sight, just waiting for darkness to fall. Then he’d struck Ugo’s car twice with his own in an isolated area. It had been enough to make Ugo lose control over the vehicle. It went off the road and crashed hard into a pile of logs.

Luckily, there hadn’t been seatbelts or airbags in the car, so the crash itself had been enough to kill Ayla, but he had to finish of Ugo himself. He’d opened the door and pushed Ugo away from the steering wheel and back to the seat. He’d heard Fiona moan in the backseat as he plunged his twisted double-bladed sword through Ugo’s chest. Ugo had tried to scream but had only managed gurgling noises due to all the blood accumulating in his throat. He seemed to be in great pain for a couple of seconds, then it had been all over. Riccardo felt no remorse. He’d wanted Ugo dead for years. Now it was finally _his_ turn.

Then he’d turned his attention to the girl in the back seat. Scraping pieces of broken glass from the window, he’d lifted his hat for a better look and locked his eyes on the half-unconscious girl. There she was Fiona Belli in flesh and blood, no longer just a statue of wood or a picture in black and white. He’d let out a loud, roaring laughter. He’d made it, now she was his, _it_ was his. He would finally be complete. He’d opened the back door and quickly dragged the confused girl out. She’d tried to fight him when leading her over to his car and thrown her in the backseat. He’d uncovered up a bottle and a small cotton cloth from his pocket, opened the bottle, poured some liquid on the fabric and dabbed it over Fiona’s mouth. The girl had calmed down instantly. Riccardo knew she was in a deep, deep sleep. The chloroform had kept her unconscious for many hours. He then started to rip of her clothes. First, he’d violently torn of her white blouse, destroying three buttons in the process. Then, he’d moved on to her skirt and boots. When she’d been wearing nothing but her underwear, Riccardo had studied the slim body with intense eyes, but not out of sexual interest. He’d found what he’d been looking for on her back, a distinctively shaped red birth mark over Fiona’s left shoulder blade. A pattern only reserved for the carriers of Azoth.

He’d stepped out of the vehicle for a moment to open the trunk and retrieve a huge pulp wrapped in an old, white sheet. He’d placed it on the ground next to his car where Fiona was sleeping, removed the sheets, uncovering a dead homunculus, female, about the same size and shape as Fiona. He removed the rest of Fiona’s clothes and put them on the female homunculus. He covered the now naked Fiona with the sheet and carried the homunculus to Ugo’s car and placed it in the backseat. At the last moment, he’d decided to keep the jade necklace she’d been wearing in case it would prove to be of value. He’d gone back to his car, slammed the backdoors shut and picked up a large can filled with gasoline from the trunk. Back to Ugo’s car, he drenched it and the three bodies with gasoline and lighted everything on fire. It didn’t take long before everything burned with intense flames. He then drove off, heading for the Italian border. Over the course of the night, the flames had destroyed all evidence of foul play. Nobody would be surprised to find residues of gasoline among a burnt-out car and the bodies would be incinerated to beyond identification. And if or when the car would finally be identified, it would be concluded that a tragic accident had taken place, and the bodies were those of Ugo, Ayla and Fiona Belli. No one would even know she’d been kidnapped; no one would come looking for her - ever.

After a few hours, he parked the car in a cave near the castle. Debilitas had been there waiting for him. He’d ordered the creature to carry the girl inside and hide her well, while he securely shut the main gate.

Fiona started to move in his arms, letting out a soft moan that indicated that she might wake up soon. Her skin colour had now returned to normal and her lips had a gotten their pink tinge back. Riccardo rose to his feet and quickly carried her to the suite where he laid her down on the bed. He studied the girl, this time with a hint of sexual interest. She was a gorgeous girl indeed, so like her mother. She shifted in her sleep, maybe she was dreaming.

He left her there, went outside, down the stairs, and headed right. He passed many small, empty cages before he went inside a large cage and collected steel wires and leather gloves - for protection. He had to find that mutt again. Debilitas had hidden Fiona in a cage in the same cellar where he’d locked in that ungrateful and disobedient German Shepherd a few days earlier, so now that damn beast of a dog was loose again. Fortunately, he knew just where to look for it. On his way out of the fenced area, he spotted a rabbit jumping down the pathway. He captured it and quickly twisted its neck around. That would be dinner for tomorrow. He attached the carcass to his belt and went inside a bush and through a well-hidden hole in the fence. On the other side was the dog training area. He could hear growling and put on the gloves and prepared the wire. It was time to teach that worthless mutt a lesson once and for all.


	7. A New Friend

For the second time that evening, Fiona Belli was stirred awake by her own screams and nightmares. Images from the crash filled her head, her parents in the front seats, surrounded by deadly pieces of broken glass as the front window went into a thousand pieces. A threatening figure staring down on her. The memories would not go away. Her body trembling almost out of control, she hugged both arms tight around her chest as to try to stop the uncontrollable shaking. She could hear the monotone ticking from the grandfather’s clock and the sparkling from the fireplace, reminding her that she was still locked up in this bizarre and hostile place.

“This isn’t real, this is just a dream.” She said it aloud to herself, refusing to accept that her beloved parents were dead. “This can’t be happening to me, it can’t be.” It was all just a terrible nightmare, or she was simply in shock and was imagining things.

Then she heard a sound from outside, a weep of pain. She stepped out of the bed, down the steps and up to the panorama window next to the door. The sun had completely set, and it was near impossible to see out the window, but she could ever so faintly make out the shape of something white. From the way it was howling, it was in a great pain. Left alone like that, it would most certainly not make it through the night. Fiona went out and headed down the stairs with the intention of freeing that poor animal. When she came up close, she nearly burst into tears. It was a beautiful white German shepherd, inhumanely bound to the huge, well-kempt tree with a wire cutting deep into its neck. _Unforgivable_. She bent down and stroked the animal’s fur to show she meant no harm. Animals in pain are often aggressive because of fear, and they feel vulnerable as they can’t tell friend from foe. However, this dog stayed calm, it was as if he knew Fiona was there to help. She gently removed the wire around its neck. _I can’t believe there are people out there that would do this to a poor helpless animal!_ She looked at the ground. _So many wounds, so much blood, no wonder you were howling in pain._

When the dog was finally free, she said softly, “Go now, and don’t get caught this time.”

He seemed ok, a little weak, but undoubtedly happy to be free. The dog stepped a few steps away, turned and looked at Fiona as to say _thank you_. Fiona smiled, the first time since arriving here.

“Go!” she said once more.

The Alsatian ran away, and Fiona watched it disappearing through a hole in the wall to the left of the antique fountain. Probably where it’d been hiding all along. She could only hope the poor pooch would have the strength to run away if anybody came after it again. She thought of the big and freaky man from earlier. She started to shiver again, looking warily around herself. She just wanted to get out of this nightmare and go home.

Who could have the heart to bind a dog with _wire_!?! She turned her back to the gruesome sight and started to search the path to the right of the fountain. Several cages littered the area, filled with feathers and fur. _For there to be this much, it must have been torn off_ , Fiona thought. It was hard to tell what sort of animal it had been, but Fiona doubted it was still alive. She tried to open a door to her left, but the hinges were rusted solid.

“Try as I may, I can’t open this door,” she mumbled under her breath. She spotted a tiny rabbit jumping down the trail only two feet away. A baby bunny looking for its mother, perhaps? It got startled as Fiona stretched out her hand to pet it and jumped back into the bushes. “And stay there,” Fiona ordered. “It’s too dangerous out here.”

Feeling even more depressed, Fiona went back to the stairs. There was no more to be seen. Half way up, she heard a squeaky sound. It came from an open gate, the rusty hinges making an eerie noise. Had it been open earlier? She felt certain she hadn’t noticed anything on her way down to free the dog only moments ago. She felt a surge of excitement and started to jog towards the open gate but had to slow down almost instantly. Her ankle was still sore, she had to resume walking. On the other side of the metal gate she passed a pile of rubble, which she completely ignored. The mass didn’t seem sturdy enough to carry her weight anyway so there was no point in checking it out. Instead she turned her attention to the castle’s main entrance. She ran up to the gate, trying her best to ignore the jolting pain and started to bang on the gate with both hands, crying out for help. But it was useless. It had been bolted securely shut, and would be impossible to open without a key, leaving her no other choice but to find another way. She sank down to her knees, losing hope. Everything seemed hopeless. Whatever she tried, it always ended up being a dead end. Saddened and disillusioned, she staggered her way back to ‘her’ room, not knowing that _he_ was waiting for her.

She was so depressed, she didn’t even notice right away. When she finally raised her head, the sight of the beast from earlier sitting on the bed sent jolts of shock through her body. Her legs gave in and she fell hard on the floor. She knew the only sound thing to do was get up and run away, but she couldn’t move. Her legs refused to carry her weight. She tried to crawl, but she was shivering so intensely. The creature rose from the bed and started raising and lowering its arms like it had before. Its growling and grunting got higher and more intense as he grew more and more excited, fear accumulating in Fiona’s heart. An ice-cold roar made her freeze. Unable to move, she was completely defenceless against the creature.

Debilitas bent down on all four and started to crawl towards the terrified young girl, closing in on her millimetre by millimetre, stretching out his hand to grab her leg. She was doomed. He would kill her, she was certain of it.

“ARF, ARF.”

The barking made both heads turn tow. The white Alsatian! It must’ve heard Fiona’s scream and was now sneering at Debilitas. Had she screamed? She couldn’t remember. The creature rose to his feet and tried to scare the animal away by roaring and waving his arms, but Fiona noticed his apprehension.

“Help,” she cried out.

The canine reacted instantly. He lunged towards Debilitas, closed his jaws over his hand and started to bite him fiercely. The creature let out a painful scream and sprinted out the door. Out of danger, Fiona now had control over her limbs again. She quickly got up, closed the door shut, and leaned her back against the door, letting herself sink to the floor again, breathing heavily. The dog was still in the room, she could hear it panting.

“Thank you,” she said under her breath when she finally managed to speak. “You saved me.”

Her voice made the dog lift its head, he walked a few steps towards where she sat but hesitated. She stretched out her hand to rub his snow-white fur.

“Come here,” she said. “Come on, boy.”

Encouraged by the soft tone and the kindness in her voice, the dog moved up to her and started to lick her face, which caused Fiona to laugh.

“What’s your name?” she laughed. Wait a sec, she already knew. From the dungeon where she’d woken up. Something white fleeing over her head, a torn apart collar with a name tag.

“Hewie? So, you’re Hewie” she affirmed, stroking him and scratching his ears. “Well, hi Hewie!”

When hearing his name, Hewie let out two barks as to say _hi to you too_.


	8. A Persistent Creature and a Mysterious Phone Call

With Hewie by her side, Fiona felt much safer. The soothing sound his claws made when his paws hit the stone covert floor calmed her down. She was not alone, not with Hewie by her side. He was skipping around, sometimes behind her, sometimes ahead of her. His tail was wagging happily from side to side. He too, seemed relieved to have found a friend in this nightmare of a place called _Belli castle_.

In her hand she held a scruffy doll with strings attached that had been cut in several places. A marionette, broken beyond repair. Hewie had found it on top of the trash pile. They had gone outside for a moment; Hewie had opened the way into the dog training area by moving a box blocking the door from the inside. They’d played there for a while and gotten to know one another. Hewie turned out to be a well-trained and obedient dog. Later, when passing the pile of rubble, Hewie had started to bark. He had spurted to the top of the pile and brought this puppet down to Fiona. She had a good idea of where to use it. She remembered passing a red door with no knob or handle; however, there had been a hook and the figure of a marionette on it. The wooden piece controlling the puppet’s movements seemed to fit perfectly into the hook, or at least that was what Fiona was hoping for as she and Hewie was walking through the castle corridors.

Inside the dining hall, Hewie got caught up in the very important task of sniffing every corner. Fiona on the other hand, stood by the door leading into the kitchen, eager to move on.

“Hewie!” she called out.

When hearing his name, the canine raised his ears, but continued sniffing.

“Come on, boy.”  This time louder and with a firmer tone. The dog let out a bark and ran up to her.

“Good boy.”

As they entered the kitchen, she recognized the maid from earlier busy cooking dinner. She threw an empty glance at Fiona and resumed stirring the pot, ignoring both the girl and the canine. _Perhaps not the best time to strike up a conversation_. Hewie was growling as they passed her. Faintly, but she could hear the angry, rumbling sound deep down in his throat.

“Easy boy.”

She wondered what he’d been through that made him distrust all the castle’s inhabitants, even the clearly non-threatening. Threatening or not, Fiona was just as relived to be out of the kitchen as Hewie was. She went up to the door and hung the broken puppet on the hook. She’d been right, it was a perfect fit. The hook slid down and the door opened. On the other side was a small and gloomy area, filled with puppets of all kinds of sizes and shapes, many of them nailed to the walls with tiny iron sticks, some hanging from the ceiling. Was someone trying to scare her? The room was split in the middle with a large, square-shaped column. To the left was a wooden gate. She sensed Hewie’s apprehension. The dog’s back and ears were raised in full alert. She too, could feel it. The only light source was a small lamp glowing in a threatening red. Hewie stood in front of a red carpet embroidered with a big eye, sneering. The other side of the wall was dotted with what looked like closed-up eyes. Something was wrong, very wrong. She picked up a doll on a dresser nearby and threw it over the carpet. The eyelids flew open and out of the pupils came tiny, but deadly sharp iron sticks nailing the doll to the wall. _The evil eyes._

“T-that could have been me,” she whispered to Hewie. “Thank you, Hewie for warning me.”

There was a contraption with a glowing, blue light and an exit on the other side. A circuit breaker? She searched the rest of the freakish place, the safe part that was. As far as any place could be considered safe in this godforsaken edifice of a castle. Maybe the gate could be raised? In one of the corners was a small elevation. She stepped on it and indeed, the gate went up. She ordered Hewie to sit on it while she quickly moved under the gate and turned the lever of the breaker box, the lamp switched off and Hewie came running towards her over the carpet. He didn’t seem to sense danger any more, other than being left behind, perhaps. Fiona crouched and stroked his fur as to assure him she would never abandon him.

“Good, boy, Hewie” she encouraged. “Now let’s move on.”

She was relived to find herself in an illuminated room. She had been concerned about walking around in the castle’s corridors after sunset, but the building was actually well lit, for the most part anyways, mainly by small chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. Small lamps on tables and walls and lit candlesticks stood for the rest of the illumination. Another oddly placed chair caught her eye.

“This place continues to weird me out, Hewie.” Though he was only a dog, it was nice to have someone friendly to talk to.

“Besides, I don’t think I’m imagining things when I say that there’s definitely something amiss with this castle,” she mumbled as a shrill sound started her. A telephone! _Ringing?_ It was probably the last sound she’d expected to hear. At first, she considered to let it ring, but changed her mind. It could be someone calling from the outside, she could get help. She couldn’t let that chance go by. She warily stepped up to the phone and lifted the receiver. It was an old phone, most likely from the fifties. At first, she only heard noise, then heavy breathing. She stared at the receiver, waiting.

“Fiona…” The sound of yet another stranger saying her name made her gasp. The noise continued, she put the receiver to her mouth.

“Who is this?”

More noise, then the man spoke again,” You must pay attention now Fiona.” She paid attention indeed.

“Be wary of Riccardo… Your Azoth…” then the voice disappeared.

“Hello? Are you there?” she asked desperately, but the stranger had hung up. She didn’t hear Hewie growling, she was too distracted by the phone call. As she put the receiver down, she wondered what the strange man had been trying to say to her. Azoth...? She’d never heard that word before, but at least it seemed someone was trying to help her. On the other side of the room stood Debilitas, he’d heard the ringing too. However, this time Fiona didn’t freeze, she had Hewie.

Debilitas came rushing towards her; “Go Hewie!” she ordered. The canine immediately started to bite the creature’s arm, but the beast just shook him off and kicked the dog in the side, which caused the poor animal to howl in pain.

“NOOO” Fiona screamed out and furiously kicked the creature as hard as she could. It didn’t even make it flinch. It turned around and fiercely grabbed Fiona’s right arm. She tried to free herself, which only made the creature pull at her harder. The intense pain nearly caused her to faint all over again; it felt like he was trying to tear her arm off. If she didn’t do something, he would succeed. She cried out a plea of help and caught a glimpse of something white fleeing over her. The creature let out a roar of pain and let Fiona go. Hewie had attacked the monster from behind and was now fiercely biting on its neck. In her desperation to get away, Fiona knocked over a table and several ornaments in the process. She tripped in the table legs and felt an intense pain in her right shoulder as she came tumbling down on the floor. The creature had pulled her arm so hard that the shoulder had nearly dislocated.

She could hear Hewie howl again, she had to do something or else he would kill then both. She picked up a glass orb and threw it at the creature. It stopped him dead in its track as a purple electric current paralyzed him. The effect lasted only a second or two, but it gave Fiona just enough time to escape. She ran through doors and hallways, outside, to the left, to the right… she didn’t’ know where she was until she recognized the music room. She could hear the beast roaring behind her. It was a dead end, she knew it. She hid the only place she could, behind the sturdy bookshelf in the middle of the room.

She was half-lying-half-sitting behind the shelf. She could feel throbbing in the ankle and shoulder, but her veins were so filled with adrenaline, she hardly noticed the pain. She knew _he_ was now inside the music room, and by the giggling in his voice Fiona could tell he’d found her and that he’d cornered her. Or so he believed. Fiona, on the other hand, had a plan. She stood up, completely ignoring the violent protest from her ankle. She peaked to the left, and so did he. She went to the right, and so did he. He seemed to enjoy this game. Fiona backed away from the shelf and then leaped towards it with full force, intense pain shooting from the shoulder. The plan worked, the shelf fell on top of Debilitas, pinning him to the ground. He was now stuck under the heavy furniture, but not for long. A bookshelf wouldn’t stop this monster. _I’d better get moving before he gets angry. Or more importantly, before he gets back up!_

She limped as fast as she could back to the hallway and found Hewie by the ticking grandfather’s clock. The throbbing in her ankle was worse than ever, her shoulder had been severely damaged, and she had scraped up her knee.

“Come on Hewie,” she said as she was limping down the corridor to the rest room. She noticed Hewie was limping a bit too. “Did he hurt you, boy?”

Inside the rest room, Fiona found a small towel, dabbed some water on it and cleaned the wound on her knee the best she could. She found a compress and a band-aid in a drawer next to the sink, which she used to plaster the bruise. Not an easy task with only one hand. She searched through the other drawers hoping to find aspirin or something that could relieve some of the ache. In the bottom drawer she found a set of small boxes with dubious-looking pills and powder labelled Quies, Mundus, Recreatio, and Sedatio. She also found a bottle of liquid labelled Fortis. She had never heard such names before. She turned the boxes and read the labels. For Mundus and Sedatio it said _calms the nerves_. Well, she certainly could’ve used some of that earlier. On Quies and Recreatio it said _highs stamina_ , and apparently Fortis strengthened the body. She didn’t feel comfortable with swallowing random, dubious-looking pills, but figured she had more to lose by not doing so. The intense agony in her ankle and shoulder made it virtually impossible to move. A deadly condition when big, freaky monsters were lurking around. She picked two pills from the box labelled Sedatio - because of the name and swallowed them with lots of water. She splashed some water on her face and dried herself with a towel. She took one zip of Fortis as well; she figured a fluid would be picked up in the bloodstream faster than pills. She tried to give one to Hewie, but he refused to take it.

“Come on, boy,” She said. “Let’s go to the kitchen and ask the maid if she has a treat for you.” Hewie lowered his ears but followed Fiona anyhow as she was limping towards the kitchen.

Back in the kitchen again, Fiona couldn’t see the maid anywhere. Oh well, she could help herself. She opened the fridge and fond some beef jerky that Hewie gladly divulged. What had the maid been cooking anyway, angel-hair pasta in tomato sauce? She bent over the pot to have a look and got sick to her stomach. That” angel-hair pasta” looked very much like human hair. She felt nausea building up, turned away and immediately ordered Hewie to follow her out of the kitchen. No supper for her tonight!

They walked, or limped, back to where they’d been interrupted by the telephone. She tried to phone for help, but there was no dial tone. She wasn’t surprised, she’d gotten used to disappointments and dead ends by now. But how had the stranger known she was right next to the telephone when he’d called!? Several glass spheres filled with purple powder was spread all over the floor, next to the table she had knocked over. It must’ve been what she’d thrown at the creature, which had given him the electric shock. She ought to take these with her. Too bad she didn’t have any pockets. Hopefully, there’d be others around to use if necessary.

Fiona and Hewie went into the next room in which there was nothing but a wide, ascending staircase. Hewie was busy sniffing the corners as usual. However, there wasn’t really any corners here, the room had circular walls and a high and globular, dome-like ceiling. She picked up the map from her boot to get her bearings. According to the sketch, they were at the main entrance. Fiona unlocked and opened a long and narrow door to her left. She’d been right; she could make out the castle’s main gate. She also spotted purple-glowing bugs and quickly closed the door again. She’d learned her lesson. According to the map, there was a way over to the other side of the castle just up the stairs. She called out for Hewie and went up to the second floor. The canine let out a bark to let her know he’d heard her and came running to catch up. Fiona’s hurt ankle suddenly started to feel better. It could even hold her weight as she was ascending the staircase. Hewie too, seemed to be feeling much better. Could the mixture really be kicking in already? She went through a door and they were now outside again. Fiona stared at the map while walking down the narrow path. Hewie followed in her heels. They were now heading over to an entirely unexplored area. She could feel exhilaration, hope and trepidation at once as they entered a narrow passageway. She could see a door in the distance. As she was walking towards it, the throbbing in her ankle and shoulder died out, and when she reached the door, she felt nothing at all. Amazing!

The walls and ceiling were greyish, but the area surrounding the door was crimson red. A doll was hanging over the entrance giving access into a small, poorly lit area, with walls as red inside as the one the outside. The room was filled with dolls, in fact, one wall was completely covered with them. It was not a pleasant sight. There were other small toys as well, a rocking horse and a crib for a small child. Was this the nursery? In the middle of the room was an old rocking chair with a large doll sitting on it. The chair was moving back and forth, causing an eerie sound that made Fiona feel uneasy. Had someone been in here recently, playing? The sheets in the crib was discoloured from lack of use. Apparently, the maid hadn’t tended to this room in a long time. Just as well, Fiona couldn’t imagine a worse place to grow up. There was also a small dresser and a closet, which could sever as a hiding place, a covert-up mirror behind the crib and a doll inside a large cage. Why would anyone...? _Maybe someone is just trying to keep one of their valuables under lock and key_ , she though. Then again, maybe not.

Leaving the nursery, she entered wide open and well-lit area. There were no chandeliers in this room but windows in the ceiling provided enough light, even now after dark as it was full moon tonight. The colours were a neutral grey. While Hewie was busy searching the area with his nose, Fiona stepped up to a large diorama entitled _Agnus Dei_. It was portraying several armoured warriors and a horse, like something out of a battle scene. Among the walls to the right were spears and suits of armours forged from steel - an obvious conversation piece.

“I guess this room serves as a museum of some sort,” Fiona mumbled to her canine companion, her fingertips gliding over the spears thinking of how people used to swing them around. _I could try using one to protect myself maybe… No good, too heavy._ She crossed to the other side where Hewie was barking at a dubious-looking hole in the wall. She could hear creaking and crackling. She decided to leave it behind. Everything screamed “Don’t go in.”

They continued on, Hewie tracing Fiona’s heels, descending a staircase down to a gloomy hall, a flower-set table and three chairs on display, a locked door and a guest room. The latter had all the furniture and ornaments as the suite; a sitting area, a TV and many paintings on the walls, but still it was not as nice of a room. The fireplace was cold. The whole room felt cold. She could hear the ticking of a grandfather’s clock, etching on moments in time. It showed half past nine. On the other side of the bed was a vanity table. It would be nice to freshen up a bit, but there was a crack in the mirror, and she couldn’t see a thing. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen a single mirror in the entire castle, not even in the rest room. She spotted more powder-filled glass spheres amongst the ornaments on the shelves next to a suitcase. One landscape painting was entirely in the colour red. It seemed quite out of place compared to the other items in the castle. She couldn’t help but notice that the colour bore a resemblance to blood, but surely it was just red paint. Surely… right...? However, there was no time for standing around, she had to get going before that _thing_ found her again. She backtracked up to the second floor and went through a door close to the staircase and out on a balcony. Over the castle’s walls there was nothing but endless forest. To the right was a strange-looking statue with the body of a beast and the head of a bird. Fiona knew some ancient castles used to line their walls with Gargoyles as it was believed to ward of bad magic. Perhaps this statue was being used in a similar fashion. She stepped up for a closer look. She hated this place, she really did. However, she could not help but feel fascinated by the many paintings and sculptures. She heard Hewie’s warning to late. She felt the ground moving as the balcony collapsed under her feet.

Shaken but okay Fiona staggered to her feet. The Fortis was still doing its magic. Hewie’s barking grew more intense, but there was another, more horrifying sound that reached Fiona’s ears. A sound she now had come to know all too well. Fiona screamed as the creature jumped down from the balcony. She ran back into the castle. To make things even worse, the purple bugs were back as well. She tried to open the first door she saw, but it was no door. It was a wall made to look like a door. What kind of sick joke was this!? She tried the next one, which was the real thing, opened it and ran into a table. She grabbed all the orbs she could hold on to and threw them all at the beast. They did nothing! Fiona realized she was throwing pool balls. She had to get inside. She had to get to Hewie. That was her only chance. She crashed into a door she hoped would lead her back into the building, but it was locked. She tried to turn the key, but her fingers were trembling. Panic building up, her vision narrowed more and more. She opened the door a minute to late, Debilitas struck her over her back and she fell screaming on her stomach. Panic hit her with full strength. She had no idea where she was or where Hewie was. But she knew where the monstrous creature was. Right over her getting ready to strike again. 


	9. Hope

Screaming, barking, ice-cold fear and her pulse throbbing in her ears, her mind was bombarded with information from her senses, information she was in no way capable of processing. She was lying on the stone-covert floor, barely able to crawl. Seconds went by, minutes, eons. The creature kept on shrieking, grunting and growling. Growling? Suddenly the muddle of sounds made sense in her head. _Hewie!_ Hewie had attacked the beast. Hewie had once again saved her. She lurched to her feet and stumbled to the open door in front of her. Hewie couldn’t fight the monster alone; she had to help him. Though still petrified, she now was in control again. Inside the guestroom she found what she was looking for. The purple and yellow orbs. She grabbed a handful and sprinted back the fastest she could, just in time to stop Debilitas from giving Hewie a solid kick to the side. Fiona threw an orb at the creature, violet lightning blasted around the beast. She threw another one, this time yellow lightning surrounded it. The yellow blast lasted longer and appeared to be more painful than the purple one. She kept throwing until the beast finally retreated and Fiona and Hewie were alone again, shocked but safe and sound.

Fiona kneeled, and rubbed Hewie’s fur, whispering comforting words in his ear not only to soothe the canine, but herself as well. After a few moments she rose, ready to move on. And immediately backed three feet away. The glowing bugs had found their way into the building and flew almost right in her face. She was not imagining it; those things were really stalking her. Stalking bugs _? Guess I’ll have to chalk that up to another strange occurrence here._ Hewie lowered his ears and sneered at the shiny, flying dots. Fiona backed away and stared dumbfounded at the lilac orbits as they died out and fell to the stone-covert floor. She leaned over and examined the dead creatures. Apart from the big, purple back, they looked like big flies. Positive observation, they appeared to have a very short life span. With that in mind, Fiona called for Hewie to follow and they moved on.

She was not surprised to find a pool table in the middle of the room that Debilitas had chased her into earlier. It seemed normal enough, unlike the rest of the items filling up the place. She stood on a rug made up of tiger fur. The head was still attached. _You poor thing_ , she thought. _Being stepped and walked on all day._ The walls were filled with stuffed animals and dead birds dangled from the ceiling. One of the hinges that supported an eagle was loose and made an uncanny sound. Or was it a falcon? She wasn’t sure. It bugged her. She made up her mind to learn the difference between eagles and falcons once she was safe home again. Shoved into one of the corners was an anatomically correct model of the human body. It looked so real, as if composed of actual body parts. She didn’t want to contemplate on the possibility that it could, in fact, be real body parts. Neither did she want to study the display of insects or envision the kind of person that would decorate a leisure room with these things. She moved outside to where she’d landed and found the map on the ground next to the ruins. She couldn’t believe the whole balcony had just collapsed under her feet. _The castle must be older that I’d initially thought_ , she realized. _I’d better watch my step from here on out._ She kneeled to the ground with the map in front of her. Hewie came up to where she sat and laid down, panting. So far, the searching of the castle had proved fruitless. Nevertheless, she ought to examine every are for clues. And hiding spots…

A room marked in red on the map was nearby. There was a square-shaped block to her left, separated from the rest of the castle. From what she could make out, the strange room was in the cellar. She stood up, determined to find the entrance. She glanced at the wall in front of her. Or more precise, the four doors on the wall though the middle ones were not doors at all, but walls made to look like doors. Fiona wasn’t even surprised. A little baffled maybe. She’d already gotten used to encounter oddities like that. Besides the door to the right, which led into the eerie leisure room, only the door to the farthest left was the real thing. She might as well have a peek inside. It led into a tiny area with a chair and a flower vase in the left corner. The vase was filled with fresh, lilac flowers emitting a sweet aroma. Fiona quickly stepped back at the appalling sight of moths swarming the flowers. _Yuck!_ She hated moths with a passion. Not only did they seem to exist solely to ruin clothes, but they had the disgusting habit of dropping dead wings all over the place. A revolting sound could be heard when Fiona stepped on them.

She made her way up a short staircase, stepped on the wooden floor and looked at the objects hanging on the stone walls. Though being very small and poorly lit, Fiona figured the room served as the castle’s gallery. Except for a sofa, table, rug and two small wooden furniture pieces, the entire area was filled with paintings. Fiona scrutinized the ones hanging on the innermost wall, puzzled. She could hear Hewie yawn, but she was too perplexed to give him any attention. All and every one of them had long cut marks in the canvas; and many of them had been ripped out of their frame and discarded as yesterday’s paper. Who’d do such a thing? Though she was no critic, the paintings didn’t seem that bad to her. She made one more observation; the destroyed paintings were all portraits of humans. The landscape paintings over the couch, on the other hand, had all been spared. A door in the wall with the ill-treated paintings led into a laundry room, the interior presented nothing of interest, and it was a dead end. But a laundry room next to a gallery?

“This place gets weirder and weirder by the minute, Hewie”

Eager to be on the move again, the canine jumped to all four and skipped out the door together with Fiona whom raised her neck to examine the walls outside. There was no doors or windows but there was a small bridge going from the main castle’s roof to that mysterious, square-shaped building. She followed the walls, rounded a corner and found a locked door. The only thing resembling a window was a round hole to the left. She rubbed her chin. There didn’t seem to be an obvious way in. Nevertheless, she was determined to find one. An idea sparked. Ordering Hewie to sit and stay she ran back to the ruins, went inside the castle, crossed the eerie pool room, up the stairs to the museum and out the door to the collapsed balcony. There was still a part of the floor that appeared to be sturdy enough to support her weight. Carefully choosing her footing, she traced the castle wall to the other side of the balcony. After passing the Gargoyle, she found what she’d been looking for. She climbed the metal ladder up to the roof. Through the glass panels she had a perfect view of the diorama in the room underneath. She crossed the bridge, opened an unlocked, wooden door and went inside.

The mysterious building’s third floor was nothing more than one long, wooden balcony flanking all four walls. Nothing but thin air was in the centre. There was a door with an odd symbol and two descending staircases. She went up for a closer look. The symbol could best be described as a ‘h’ inside smoke coming out of an oil lamp. The door was different from all the others. There was a peculiar design etched into it. That had to mean something. She tried the door, but unsurprisingly it was securely locked. She went down to the second floor. It had a stone covert floor with a round pattern of circles and a yellow snake biting its tail in the middle. The entire room was filled with crates; most of them lined the walls, but some haphazardly placed around the floor. On top of the crates were crafted flat stones tilting downwards in three different colours; red, grey and green. Along the wall in front of her were only crates with red on top. There was an empty place just big enough for two crates and there just happened to be two red-coloured crates next to her. Hm, curious. Same case for the other walls, an empty space and one crate standing solely on the floor in the room. What would happen if she was to push them into their respective places? It took a few minutes. She could hear Hewie growing more and more impatient. When she was finished, the floor started to shift, and a hidden metal staircase was revealed. Fiona immediately rushed down and unlocked the door to let Hewie in. He got a lot of praises and cuddles for being so patient and obedient. The dog exuberantly wagged his tail and ran in circles; happy to see Fiona again.

There was way to access the basement floor, but a part of the innermost wall had a peculiar design. Was this the way down to the lower levels? She searched every part of the outline but found no mechanism or means to open it. Hewie was alternately sniffing two contraptions on each side of the stairs. Maybe she had to use them somehow? They were huge, higher than Fiona, and the upper part could be turned. In the middle was a round mirror. She pivoted the device so that the mirror faced the half-moon in the centre of that wall-pattern. The other had no mirror inserted and could not be turned. But she’d gotten far; with aid from Hewie she had opened many locked doors, deactivated a deadly booby trap and had gained access to most of the castle. She would not give up, she was going to find that missing mirror.

Only one more area left to explore. The path straight ahead. She listened for footsteps, but the only sound she could hear was that of crickets. Or were they locusts? Never mind. Was the creature nearby? Was he also listening for footsteps? Several stones were inserted into the grass outside the building. They reminded Fiona of gravestones, though she couldn’t see anything engraved on them. She crossed a small bridge and entered a passageway; the walls littered with rectangular openings, a draft emerging from them. Hewie was still sitting at the door, eye-tracing Fiona. She called out and reluctantly the Alsatian rose and followed the young girl, staying roughly ten yards behind. He wanted to trust his new owner, he sensed he could trust her, but she was still a stranger and she’d just left him alone for a long time. Fiona noticed Hewie’s reluctance, the trust and loyalty from man’s best friend had to be earned and that was not done in a moment. She wished they could take the time to cuddle and play but staying in one place too long would be dangerous. If that creature -

”Fi-o-na”

 _What was that?_ Was she imagining things or was there a voice coming from the wall to her side? She went up to the rectangular openings and listened…

”Fi-oh-naaa”

There it was again! Bending down and peering into the biggest opening, she could ever so slightly make out the shape of something moving in the gusts of wind; a piece of paper with something scrawled on it. Without thinking, she put her hand into the hole and grabbed it. Like out of a horror movie, someone closed their hand around Fiona’s wrist and refused to let go. Fear shot through her veins; she let out a scream and instinctively hauled back. Panic was accumulating in her chest again, now an all too familiar sensation. She fought back, jerking and dragging at the force clenching her arm. Suddenly, they let go of her and she stumbled on to her back. A skinny arm with blue fingernails protruded from the hole, a thick gold bracelet hung on its wrist. Judging from the dry and discoloured skin, the arm belonged to an old man. ‘ _Fiona’_ the voice uttered once more before disappearing into the darkness. In her hand, Fiona held the scrawled memo.

Hewie had heard her screams and was now by Fiona’s side again. She froze, had _it_ heard her screaming too. She listened, but heard nothing. Nevertheless, she ought to get moving. She unfolded the paper. The writing also suggested an elderly person. She stood up and read while walking down the passageway.

 _Damn that Riccardo! He has sealed of the main gate._ She’d already figured out that much. _But all hope is not lost; there is another, lesser known way out of Belli castle._ Now _that_ caught her interest. She read on; apparently an old mansion lay beyond the castle’s walls and the way to freedom went through that mansion. Directions followed; she had to use something called _the lunar panels_ on the first floor of the tower on the other side of the bridge to shine light on the wall in the back room. That would open the way down to the chapel where she had to find _the goddess key_ , go up the secret staircase and unlock the door on the third floor which would lead her into the mansion. She also had to _beam the light out of the second floor of the music tower,_ whatever that meant. The letter ended with _Fiona, please understand that my only desire is to free you from this wretched tomb of a castle._ Signed Lorenzo.

Fiona felt a surge of hope. Someone was trying to help her, someone who knew the castle inside out, guiding her to freedom and safety. She thought about the voice on the telephone, the voice of an old man. Had that been the mysterious Lorenzo too, calling to warn her of Riccardo?

Fiona noticed a blocked gateway and a window with purple curtains. Something was vaguely familiar about it. A quick look at the map confirmed her suspicion; she was outside the music room. Maybe she could get to the second floor from here. She smelled sweet nectar; beautiful, lilac flowers were blooming on the other side of a small fence to her left. Why was Hewie barking at the flowers? She walked up to the fence for a closer look. Something small and shiny was lying on the ground almost hidden by grass and leaves. It couldn’t be the mirror she was looking for, it was way too small for that, but judging by how things were going, she was probably going to need whatever it was. The only problem was that there was no way she could climb over the fence as the metal bars were higher than her. Luckily, she spotted a tiny round hole, just big enough for Hewie…

“Go Hewie” she ordered. The canine let out a bark, crouched down to all four, crawled through the hole into the flowerbed, and picked up the shiny object with his jaw.

“Good boy. _Good boy._ Now come on.”

What Hewie had found was a small key labelled _study key_. Study? Why did that sound familiar? Study key, study room...? Yes, of course! The study. She’d completely forgotten about it! Because of… no, she didn’t want to think about it. From what she could tell from the map, the study room was next to the music tower. That would be their next stop.


	10. Danger is Lurking at Every Corner

Filled with hope and optimism, Fiona called out for Hewie to follow. There were windows belonging to the music room, a bench and a wall-attached ladder that would take to the second floor. She’d have to make do without Hewie again. She kneeled and stroked his fur.

“You be a good boy and wait here, Hewie, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Hewie let out an approving bark and lay down on the ground. With no time to waste, Fiona tucked the map and memo into her boot and climbed the ladders; first a short one leading up to a small porch, then a longer one. She had to remind herself to not to look down. However, she now had a great view of the area. She noticed three colourful windows at the tower’s lowest levels, reminiscent of church windows, that couldn’t be the chapel, could it? And that building in the distance had to be the mansion!

The first thing she noticed when she finally made her way up was a peculiar device like the two in the tower. Was that another lunar panel? There was a conveniently placed rectangular hole in the wall next to the contraption. She remembered the instructions on how to open the way down to the chapel. _Beam the light out of the second floor…_ She turned the lunar panel so that the mirror was aimed straight at the tower, reflecting the moonlight and sending a beam of light towards the tower. Perfect! Now all she had to do was find the other refractor and make her way back to the tower before the monster found her. They would be out in no time. Unfortunately for Fiona, it would turn out to be a lot more complicated.

The music tower’s second floor didn’t take up much space. A piano stood in the middle of the small area. Fiona thought of tinkering out a few chords. It might soothe her nerves a bit. However, it was hardly the time nor place to practice her piano skills. Not to mention the significance of being as quiet as possible. Loads of speakers lined the walls in a haphazardly fashion. Fiona felt a piercing stare coming from them. The view she had over the first floor didn’t help either. The creepy statue was still on the couch… Nausea was building up, pressing on her larynx. Turning away in disgust, she unlocked the door behind the piano and found herself out in the hallway with the blood-stained pillar. The study was right down the hall. As she was about to enter, she was once again distracted by a strange sound, but this one did not belong to the beast. She followed the sound to the forgotten room. Someone was inside. Fiona arched her back and peered into the key hole. The scene she was about to whiteness would make her go ice cold with fear and make her just as terrified as any deformed monster could.

The maid was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. She could hear Riccardo speak with an angry voice, though he was nowhere to be seen. “Where is he!?” he demanded to know. He slowly stepped into Fiona’s line of vision.

“Where is the old man?” he asked as he was walking towards the maid. “Where is he _hiding_?”

The maid didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Riccardo raised his left hand and hit her on the cheek. Then another one. And again, and again and again… He kept hitting her until she started to bleed from her mouth, still she said nothing. When he was finished, Daniella lifted her head to look at him; her expression showed no fear, no shock, no shame, no pain… nothing. She seemed totally indifferent. Riccardo turned his head, but Fiona could only see his mouth and chin. The rest of his face was still covered by a hood.

“I won’t let him touch her!” he angrily exclaimed. The voice, the lips, there was something familiar about him, where had she heard that voice before, _where??_

“Do you hear me old man?” The question appeared to be rhetorical. “The azoth is _mine_.”

Azoth… was he talking about _her_!? She dropped the key to the floor. It made a low clinging sound. The maid turned her head and stared straight at the door, as if she knew Fiona was eavesdropping. A smile emerged on her lips.

 _I-I have to get out of here!_ Fiona picked up the key and ran back to the study as fast as she could. Riccardo - he was clearly insane. Who knew what he’d do next!

The walls in the study were lined with shelves filled up by old, scholarly masterpieces written in various languages, many of which were ancient. A massive book stood stalwart, open on a small sable. It appeared to be quite old. An antique, perhaps? Unfortunately, it was all Greek to Fiona. Besides English, her mother tongue, she spoke Italian and some French. Her mother, on the other hand, mastered seven languages; English, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian and Latin.

There were two desks in the study, one in a corner and another squeezed into a small space in between three bookshelves. The drawers in the desk placed in the corner were all unlocked. Various formulae and computations had been scribbled on the desktop. Pinned to a blackboard were drawings of purple glowing orbs, just like those bugs. She read the writing on the board and got one of her many questions answered. _Luminessants - tiny creatures that respond to the ethereal energies given off by Azoth._ They could be used to track down nearby Azoth. A direct contact with a subject carrying Azoth would result in an electric shock. The word Azoth again. What is Azoth? She had no idea. Furthermore, the little buggers died only minutes after exposure to open air.

The other desk had one locked drawer. Luckily, she now had the key. Inside was a cone shaped, well-polished convex mirror. It had to be the missing lunar refractor! A sound. From the hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks, listening. Was there someone outside? Holding firmly on to the mirror, she tip-toed behind the door and crouched. She didn’t notice the luminessant hovering above her head.

~*~

The maid’s indifference greatly annoyed Riccardo. He wanted her to feel pain when he slapped her. He wanted her to fear him, to obey _him_ and not the old man. Daniella’s inability to feel pain had been Riccardo’s idea, an idea he for the moment greatly regretted. How could he present himself as an authoritative and threatening figure when she was unable to fear punishment? How could he get her to respect him? He turned to face her. Why in hell was she sitting there with a grin on her face?

“You clean up in here first thing in the morning!” he barked and slammed the door shut, boiling inside.

“Yes, master Riccardo” he heard through the door. Fortunately, he now had Fiona to clean the castle. The maid would soon prove superfluous. He’d been right. By the plate-pressing machine he’d found the old parchment about the golem and a plate with _FIONA_ written on it. She’d also managed to open the door to the puppet room and turn off the evil eyes. She’d turned out to be one clever girl, but unfortunately for her, not smarter than him. He heard footsteps inside the study and let out more luminessants. The little brat would soon learn who was in charge here. He didn’t want to alert her about his presence, so he went through the refinery, down the ladder and headed towards the mansion.

As he was walking through the castle’s many hallways, Riccardo thought about all that had to be dealt with in the future. Several problems required his attention. A balcony on the other side of the castle was in bad shape, the generators that supplied electricity needed maintenance and the Variatio Machina in the secret alchemy room had to be calibrated as it was highly unreliable. Not to forget he had to visit the mansion regularly to check in on the homonuculi. They were predictable most of the time and exhibited regular patterns of behaviour, but they were also known to do unexpected, random actions if they were left alone for longer periods of time. Like yesterday, when he’d been away to get Fiona, one of the homunculi had released several foetuses from the incubators. Riccardo, Daniella and Debilitas had spent the entire day hunting down screaming baby homunculi in the Belli mansion. At least the retard had enjoyed it. The failure responsible for the mayhem had been greatly punished. It was now sitting on a chair in the red mansion’s hallway, crying its eyes out. There was probably still some which they had not captured, but he’d deal with that later. Now he had to focus on the secret formula as it was not yet ready. He would have to spend a good two-three hours working on it. When finished, he wouldn’t need the luminessants to keep an eye on Fiona.

~*~

A shock jolted through Fiona’s body as the luminessant hit her forehead. She screamed, jerked up and instinctively headed out the door where she ran straight into Debilitas. The sight of the horrendous monster in her face was more than Fiona could handle. Before she knew it, she was blindly running and screaming down the corridor in full panic mode. Her vision narrowed, and she had no idea where she was heading. Her heart violently throbbing against her sternum, pulse racing in her ears, she was shrieking and wheezing, stumbling and jolting herself up again and ran straight into a wall at full speed. Reacting instinctively, her legs turned a few degrees. She felt her body hit the wall again, tried again, failed again. On the fifth or was it the sixth try she hit her head hard against a door and fell to the floor. Desperately crawling over the stone bricks, completely defenceless and terrified, she desperately cried out the highest she could, hoping Hewie would hear and come to her aid. The creature was close. She forced herself up to her feet and staggered out a door, down some stairs, into a room, another room, a hallway, hit a closed door, gasped for air. What now? _Hide!_ She had to hide somewhere. She ran as fast as her legs would allow her, into the rest room and hid behind the shower curtain. She crouched down in the bathtub and waited.

The creature sprinted into the restroom only seconds later, more energized and furious than ever. His frustration grew by the minute when he did not find her. “Ah, where is you?” she could hear him grunt. She made herself as small as she could, her whole body shivering intensely. She covered her ears and didn’t even dare to breath. Her lungs aced and her throat was sore. One hundred years later she dared to remove her hands and look up. When she heard no sound, she stood up and after a few more minutes she dared to pull the curtain aside and step out. She went over to the drawer and violently pulled out the bottom one and picked up a box, the one labelled Sedatio and opened it. The box was filled with green powder. She dabbed her finger into the substance and licked it. The powder tasted salty. She had some more, and her heartrate went down to normal. She had some water and slowly inched herself back to the hallway, carefully listening for sounds. She did not know that soon she would be facing someone far more malevolent, threatening and cruel.

She returned to the hallway upstairs, picked up the lunar refractor she’d lost when running into the wall and headed down the corridor. Sick sacking the luminessants still alive, she entered the music tower, closed the door and went down the ladders were Hewie was waiting. She spent a minute sweet talking and patting the canine before they headed towards the lunar panels.

~*~

The maid was standing behind the fenced gate outside the music room, staring at the girl and her four-legged companion as they were headed down the path on the other side. Her eyes were transfixed at the beautiful young woman with the dancing ponytail. The skirt was floating teasingly around her hips. _She is filthy_ , the maid thought. A filthy princess that men are lusting after. A filthy princess with a very precious gift. A gift she would soon claim for herself.

The maid turned and inched towards the kitchen with slow, robotic steps. Her name was Daniella, or so she’d been told. Names meant nothing to her. She had also been told she was the perfect woman. However, they were wrong. She was incomplete; she could not stand the sight of her reflection. And tonight, she would do something she’d never done before. She would disobey her master. She wanted that Azoth, she deserved it. Her master had promised to give her Azoth if she proved herself useful by working hard and obeying his every command. So she had. For years, she’d been cleaning and cooking. But now as there was a carrier of the purest Azoth inside the castle’s walls, Daniella saw no point in waiting any longer.

Back in the kitchen she collected bowls, utensil and glasses. One glass crushed in her hand, big chunks of it penetrated her flesh. She’d pressed to hard again. Blood was dripping on the floor. Automatically, she did what she’d been told to do whenever she cut herself. She flushed the wound clean under the sink and stopped the bleeding with a towel. It didn’t take long for the blood to coagulate. Her tissue healed fast because of her high metabolism. The bruise Riccardo had given her was merely a shadow now, a discoloration on her skin. It would be completely gone within minutes. Despite that, her hands were always filled with bloody cuts and bruises.

She opened a bottle of expensive red wine she’d picked from the bodega earlier and poured the content in two glasses. She picked up a small box filled with black pills from a pocket inside her apron. The box was labelled Nigred - an alchemic concoction that would completely drain the energy from whoever would be stupid enough to swallow it. She put one pill in each glass of wine and stirred with a spoon until the tablet had completely dissolved. The wine’s aroma and colour completely disguised its colour and taste. She assumed. She could neither smell nor taste so there was no way for her to be sure. She set the table in the dining room and went to find the girl. Dinner was ready to be served.


	11. The Stand Against Debilitas

Moonlight reflected by the lunar panel in the music tower hit the newly inserted lunar refractor, and a beam of light hit Fiona straight in the eyes and forced her to look away. Still she managed to turn the device so that the mirror faced the other lunar panel. The beam now hit the half-moon engraved in the wall. The outline split in three parts, revealing a hidden passage. The first thing Fiona saw - and heard was another grandfather’s clock. Hm, peculiar. The walls were filled with randomly placed holes, like the ones in the passageway earlier.

“I’m never sticking my hand in one of these again,” she whispered to Hewie as they descended a spiral staircase.

Downstairs was a door and a sign that read: _the path beyond is the road to darkness. Go not without a guide, lest ye lose yourself to the darkness within._

“This has to mean something, but what?” Fiona mumbled, puzzled.

Only one way to find out. She opened the door and entered the room on the other side. The road to darkness was an apt name. Only a small part of the chessboard floor was illuminated, while the rest was covered in darkness. Judging by the warning on the sigh outside, it was intentional. Hewie was showing all the signs of danger; sneering, low ears and a rigid back. Fiona had a feeling that walking straight ahead and into the darkness would be a bad idea. Still, there had to be a path to the door on the other side. She ordered Hewie to go and search for a safe route. The canine traced the floor with his nozzle and warily, Fiona stepped into the shadow.

They walked in an _S_ -shaped path and made it safely over to the other side. A massive, double-hinged door led Fiona and her canine companion into a vastly illuminated hall. She lifted her gaze. Three magnificent chandeliers, one vast and two somewhat smaller, and three colour-stained glass windows provided more than enough light. Fiona spotted several luminessants glimmering in the darkness behind and closed the door. Hewie was sniffing a pulley system that was used to rise and lower the biggest chandelier. ropes had been tightly fastened to make sure the chandelier wouldn’t accidentally fall. Her gaze moved once again up to the enormous chandelier; _If it did, someone could be seriously hurt._

She walked up to the altar. Plants, candles and different pagan symbols were centred around a huge goddess statue of Ares, whom was holding a cane with both hands. Letters were engraved on a stone-plate in front of the goddess.

_To the seeker of the sacred technique of Ars, obey the will of Hermes’ divine cane and haste to the secret staircase._

A cane? “Hm, curious,” Fiona scratched her chin. “I’ll bet this is related to that goddess statue,” she mumbled. Something was hanging from the cane. She stepped on the stone plate for a closer look. A key! Fiona grabbed it and jumped down. The letter _h_ was carved into it, just like the one engraved on that door from earlier. The key felt heavy in her hands. It had been forged from lead, a rather uncommon use of the metal. She suddenly remembered; the symbol meant Saturn. She turned her head, her eyes gliding over the divine figure.

“If this is the chapel... Then this statue must symbolize the deity worshipped here,” she concluded.

Apparently, the inhabitants worshipped medieval gods and goddesses. They could worship whatever deity they pleased. Finally, she had the key to get out of this castle - literally. She called for Hewie and headed towards the exit. And froze at the sight of the wide-open door. Hadn’t she closed it just moments ago...? Hewie started barking. A figure emerged from behind the door. Debilitas had followed her down to the chapel and now he had her cornered. He locked the door and furiously started growling and waving his arms.

“No,” Fiona whimpered. “Oh, no-oo.”

The beast came lunging towards her. He’d waited long enough, he wanted to play _now._ Fiona dived past him, spurted over the floor and yanked the doorknob. But it was no use. She was trapped. Now what? Hewie was biting the creature’s leg, but the beast would soon shake him off and possibly hurt the poor animal in the process. She had to think fast. Once Debilitas had shook free, Fiona charged at the giant beast. By using all her strength, she managed to give him a small push, making him roar in shock and slapping Fiona so hard she fell to the floor. He was giggling and jumping up and down, hitting his head and shouting her name. For him, this was just a fun game. Fiona raised, backed against the wall, ready to dodge the next stroke. She succeeded. Debilitas missed and hit the pulley system instead. Pieces of wood went flying over Fiona’s head. Hewie was feverishly biting and scratching on the opposite one. What was he trying to do?

“Hewie, help!”

The canine leaped onto the beast’s back in time to save Fiona from a deadly stroke. The creature screamed in pain as the dog was chewing on his neck. After freeing himself once more, Fiona watched in horror as the creature turned all his attention towards Hewie. The dog backed away, closer and closer to the wall. When he was under the pulley, he stopped. Debilitas raised his arm, ready to get rid of this annoyance once and for all.

“Hewie! No,” Fiona screamed.

She closed her eyes, she didn’t want to whiteness Hewie’s death. She heard wood smashing to pieces, Hewie barking and running, the beast grunting. Hewie had leaped away at the last moment and was now luring Debilitas to the middle of the chapel. Two seconds later, a crashing sound echoed through the room. Debilitas was pinned to the floor by the enormous chandelier.

Had Fiona been hit by the chandelier she would most likely have died. The brawny Debilitas on the other hand, survived the massive damage to his back. There was no doubt however, that he’d gotten severely hurt. Before passing out under the crushing weight, his marble round eyes stared awestruck at the goddess for a moment, then at Fiona. Hewie was still growling at the beast under the massive chandelier. He knew the creature wasn’t dead.

“It’s Ok Hewie,” Fiona said in a calm and comforting voice. “He can’t come after us anymore. Good boy.”

Still tense, Hewie backed away and up to Fiona. She bent down and stroked his fur. She was certain no one could have survived such a colossal impact.

“Calm down Hewie, it’s over.” Attention directed away from the chandelier, she didn’t notice Debilitas opening his eyes.

“It’s okay, Hewie,” she reassured. “It’s okay…”

It was the grunting and the crushing sound of broken glass that caught Fiona’s attention. Debilitas slowly rose, undoubtedly in great pain. He showed no sign of aggressiveness or excitement. On the contrary, he radiated defeat, humility and respect. Still on his knees, he bowed to Fiona, his head touching the floor. Then he rose, unlocked the door and vanished into the darkness.

Fiona found the Saturnus key under pieces of glass and twisted metal and put it inside one of her socks.

“What a fancy chandelier, she though. “It must have been quite expensive.” It was a miracle that the creature had survived, had it been her… _I-I could have been killed,_ she thought in horror. _I guess fate was smiling on me today… For now._ The image of the creature and his big, round eyes filled Fiona’s mind. He’d looked like a child of sorts.

“The size of a giant and the mind of a child,” she thought with sadness. He should be pitied, not hated. Fiona wished she’d acted differently. Then maybe all this could have been avoided. She’d never meant for anyone to get hurt and now the poor thing was suffering. She hurried out the door, called for Hewie, sick sacked the room of darkness, and went up the spiral stair. Before she could move on, she had to make sure he was okay.

The creature was heavily limping so Fiona and Hewie soon caught up with him. Keeping their distance, they followed him to a small, scruffy looking shed outside the music room. A fire was crisply burning in a barrel outside the shabby structure. Inside were a few shelves, a filthy bed and a small, red-lit room filled with broken toys and ripped apart dolls. The bed was in a terrible condition and likely flea-infested. Debilitas was facing what looked like a shrine with different sorts of religious symbols. He was shaking. Hewie seemed relaxed; it was as if he could sense that the creature was no longer a threat. When he noticed Fiona, he turned and fell humbly to his knees. Still unsure, Fiona backed away from the being, who was now folding his hands, grunting desperately for mercy and forgiveness. He picked up something from the shrine and offered it to Fiona as an attempt at redemption. Hesitantly she picked it up, hurried out the door and went back to the secret staircase on other side of the castle. Inside the dirt-caked box was a pair of earrings and a tiny paper that said the name of the earrings; _Inquisitor Earrings_ , that would calm the nerves of whoever was wearing them. Fiona put them on, feeling her heart rate slow down and her pulse returning to normal.

Back in the tower again, they went up to the third floor to the door with the Saturnus symbol. Fiona picked up the key hidden in her boot. She could hear Hewie growling; a deep, guttural sound coming from his throat.

“Easy, boy” she said. She did not notice the shadow behind her.

The symbols matched, it had to be the right key. The key out of here. Slowly she moved it towards the key hole. About to insert it, a bloody hand full of open wounds reached out from behind and closed around hers. She gasped, her muscles tensed, and she dropped the key. Slowly she turned. The maid was standing behind her, cold and emotionless. She spoke in a low, monotonous tone.

“Dinner is served, miss.”

 _Dinner!?_ When Fiona didn’t answer, the maid moved her head until she was a mere inch from Fiona’s nose. “Dinner is served, Miss,” she repeated and showed the first sign of emotion. A smile emerging on her perfectly plum lips. 

As soon as the maid turned, Fiona picked up the key from the floor and tucked it inside her sock again. Too scared to object, she followed Daniella down the stairs, calling for Hewie to come. The dog followed. The maid walked with slow, rigid steps never losing her pose. They moved through the passageway and up to the locked gate, Fiona and Hewie always staying ten feet behind the uncanny woman. She pulled a lever and the gate rose, revealing a shortcut to the dining room. They followed Daniella past the music room, rounded a corner, inside the castle again, through the kitchen and into the dining room where she stopped next to a chair on the opposite side of the table. The maid stared at the dog, then at the open door, then at Fiona and then finally back to the door again. Fiona got the hint.

“Wait outside, Hewie.” The canine lowered his head and made a whining sound. “It’s OK, Hewie. I’ll be only a moment. Good boy.”

The Alsatian slowly walked out to the hall on the other side of the door and turned to look at her. Fiona gave an encouraging nod. The maid pointed a hand to the seat, encouraging Fiona to sit, closed the door and disappeared into the kitchen.

Utensils and two chalices filled with red wine were placed on the table in front of her. She could hear sounds of porcelain hitting metal emerging from the kitchen. Moments later, the maid appeared with a bowl of soup, placed it in front of Fiona and then she went back to the kitchen again. Fiona thought about the soup from earlier. Luckily, there were no tendrils in this hot and creamy white soup. She picked up a spoon and stirred, unidentified lumps of meat emerging to the surface. The sight made Fiona nauseous. No way was she eating that. The maid came out of the kitchen with another bowl of soup. There was only one more chair next to the dining table. However, there were still more than enough candlesticks to make up for the lost chairs. She thought about the chairs haphazardly placed out in the hallway, picked up a chalice and tasted the wine. It was a little bitter, but rich in aroma. Her father had taught her quite a bit about wine. He’d wanted his daughter to have an uncomplicated relationship to alcoholic beverages and as an attempt to de-mystify alcoholic drinks, he’d been serving his daughter wine at dinner every day since she was fourteen. It had worked, though Fiona had been drinking wine almost every day for the last four to five years, she’d never been drunk. She looked up at the chandelier in the ceiling and thought of the episode in the chapel. A shiver went down her spine, and she had some more wine to soothe her nerves. The maid brought more bowls of soup. Fiona emptied the cup. She wanted to empty the second glass too but decided against it. She didn’t want to get tipsy as she had a feeling she’d need a clear head later on. A total of ten bowls filled with creamy white soup were now in front of her. Fiona had hoped to be left alone but unfortunately, she had no such luck. The maid came up to Fiona’s left side and started to speak. What she said made no sense to Fiona.

“My creator said he made me the perfect _woman_ …” the maid started, tilting her head. “But I cannot taste or experience pleasure. Or feel pain.”

Fiona put her spoon down, “Um, thanks for the meal.”

She rose from the table and went out to Hewie. Suddenly she felt terrible. Moaning, she placed her hands on her stomach and leaned heavily towards the door. Was it the wine? Had she been drinking too fast? But she wasn’t nauseous, she wasn’t in pain, it was just like all the energy had been depleted from her body. _I should try and get some rest_ , she thought, staggering up the stairs. She could’ve sworn she’d heard _I’m not complete…_ on the other side of the door. Sensing that something was wrong with his new owner, the dog warily traced Fiona’s steps a few feet behind. After what felt like hours, she finally made it up to the suite. Fresh sheets had been placed on the bed. Fiona lay down and immediately fell asleep.


	12. A Difficult Investigation

It was a lovely autumn day in rural Digne-les-Bains, one of four arrondisements in the French region Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur, usually just referred to as Provence. The temperature was well over twenty degrees Celsius and there was no wind. Birds were singing in the cloud-free sky and the air smelled of asphalt, forest and burned wood. Shattered glass laid spread over the gravel next to the road, reflecting the sunlight. Detective-lieutenant Jean-Luc Clement Guillot however, paid no heed to the picturesque landscape. His full attention was directed at the burned wreck at the side of the road and the three corpses inside. A couple driving through the region to visit their daughter in Castellane had spotted the vehicle and called the police. The unfortunate event had taken place in one of the most desolated areas in the province, almost an hour drive from his office in Digne. That’s why the police hadn’t been notified before noon this day even though the incident had most likely occurred the evening before.

The place was already flooding with crime scene investigators. “Excusez-moi, Messieurs.” Guillot paved his way over to the side of the charred vehicle, bent down and peered inside. “Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed at the sight of the burned remains. The fire had cooked the soft tissue, turning it black and leathery over the charred bones. He stroked his palm over his mouth and jaw; even after twenty years at the Digne-les-Bains police department, he never got used to the tragic sights at crime scenes and sites of accidents. Lives cut short, young people dying long before their time, often just for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Their family and friends receiving devastating news… police work could be hard, very hard. Fighting crime and keeping the streets safe made it all worth it, though. He loved his profession indeed.

The detective examined the remains closely; the two in the front seat and one in the back. The damage to the corpses in the front seats and the fresh black tire marks on the asphalt nearby meant someone had been burning rubber recently. It was suspected that the driver had lost control over the vehicle and crashed into the logs at the side of the road, perhaps because of fatigue or just a moment loss of concentration or under the influence. A tox screen would reveal if he or she had been ingesting alcohol or drugs. Guillot shook his head. They had most likely been a family on holiday, such a tragic fate they had suffered. The coroner arrived and Guillot stepped away allowing the man to do his work undisturbed. He turned to the CSI in charge, head investigator Jacques Leroy.

"Bonjour Monsieur, ce qui peut vous m'indiquer?" _Good day Sir, what can you tell me?_

“The incident occurred between eight pm and midnight last night. The investigation’s still preliminary so at this point we can’t rule out homicide but so far, we haven’t been able to find any sign of foul play. This seems to have been nothing more than an accident,” Leroy could inform him. Officer Pierre Simon approached the detective.

“Any witnesses?”

“Unfortunately no, Monsieur” said the policeman. “This is a low populated area. No one either saw or heard anything. The nearest house is over five kilometres away.”

Guillot jotted down the information in his notebook and was about to report in to headquarters when one of the technicians stopped him. She’d made quite an interesting discovery.

“A license plate?” Guillot arched a brow. “Why wasn’t this found before now?” he asked in surprise.

“Mes excuses, Monsieur,” the technician apologized. “It must have fallen of the vehicle before the crash. I found it lying in the high grass over there.” The woman pointed towards an area on the other side of the road about twenty meters away from where they stood.

“It was covered in dirt. After I cleaned it, my colleague and I compared it to the vehicle’s remaining plate. Though it was extremely burned, we still managed to decipher the numbers. We got a match. This license plate belongs to the burned car.”

“Good job, Mademoiselle.” Guillot gave an approving nod. The technician smiled and she and Leroy went back to work. The detective held the evidence bag in his hand and read the information on the license plate through the transparent plastic. The combination of numbers and letters told him that the car had been registered in Paris. He went over to his Toyota Prius and plotted the numbers into the database. The car was registered to a rental company in Paris. He dialled them immediately. He wanted a positive ID on those remains as soon as possible so that the next of kin could be informed. Over the years, he’d learned all too well the terrible and agonizing feeling when a loved one had gone missing. In this case, loved ones. A name meant that an odontologist could compare dental x-rays of the remains to that of the suspected victim.

The car had been rented to one Ugo Belli, living in London, England. He’d arrived in Paris early yesterday morning with his wife and daughter. At the last minute, they had decided to drive from Paris to Nice, his wife had wanted to show their daughter the beautiful landscape in southeast France. Since they hadn’t booked a car in advance, the company hadn’t had much to offer the family. They had rented an old wreck for next to nothing. Wife and kid, were they English? He thought they were, though he hadn’t caught their names. Could he describe them? Hesitation, deep breath, then... Nice, friendly people, appeared to be a loving family. Wife fluent in French, the husband and daughter seemed to speak the language as well. The daughter had been a real looker, blond with huge… Guillot interrupted him before he had the chance to complete the sentence. What else? He jotted down the employee’s estimation of age and height and the description of the family’s clothes, then he informed him the reason he’d called.

“Hot damn!” the guy exclaimed. “I should never have rented them that car. The wreck hadn’t even had any air bags. Now my boss is going to kill me.”

Annoyed, Guillot hung up. He didn’t even thank the man for the cooperation. A family had most likely been killed in a terrible accident and all he cared about was his own goddamn ass. However, his aggravation soon disappeared, the coroner called him over. He had noticed something peculiar.

“You see that damage to the sternum and the ribs?” he asked, pointing at the caracass in the driver seat. “I can’t be sure until I’ve examined the area more closely under light and magnification in my lab, but I doubt this was caused by the impact.”

Guillot raised his head in surprise. “What do you suggest caused the damage?” he asked.

The coroner frowned, it was too soon to suggest a possible scenario. Nevertheless, he decided offer one anyways. He’d know detective Guillot for a long time and knew the man never jumped to conclusions.

“Like I said, I can’t say for sure yet, but if you notice the shape of the damage to the sternum, it looks as if a long, thin object penetrated the driver’s chest.”

Guillot raised both his brows; that had certainly not been what he’d expected to hear. “Skeleton size and shape of the skulls suggests that the driver is male, and the passenger is female, but that’s only preliminary. In addition to determine age, sex, height and ancestry, I’ll examine the driver’s spine for similar damage.” The coroner took a pause to draw his breath and then he resumed talking. “Here’s what’s even more interesting; I’ve noticed some peculiar irregularities on the skeleton in the backseat.” The coroner’s voice grew more intense. “The bones have several deformities, determine age and race will be next to impossible. I have to consult with a colleague of mine who is an expert in osteology. I’ve never seen bones like this before. Not even on individuals with neurofibromatosis.”

Guillot gave him a puzzled look. “You may know it as elephant disease. However, that is not a correct…” _Doctor, please!_ Dr. Claude Monet Gautier, named after the famous painter, was known to be thorough and meticulous in his job and with a huge passion for the anatomy of the human body, which was enough to put most people off. That was not the case for Guillot, he admired the man’s vast knowledge and precise research. However, he had no time for a lesson on correct medical terminology now.

“So it would have shown?” the detective interrupted.

“Most certainly,” the doctor confirmed. “And I’m fairly certain it couldn’t even walk. At least not for longer periods of time. I haven’t found any such abnormalities on the remains in the front seats.”

Guillot thanked the coroner and went to find Officer Simon. It was time to alert the English authorities. Something was bothering him, something the car rental employee had said over the phone. He flipped his notebook. _The daughter had been a real looker…_ That certainly didn’t’ sound like the body that was being lifted out of the back seat right now. Then where was the daughter? Was she the other female passenger? Or was she missing? Were the three individuals not the Belli family at all? An entire family missing? And the damage to the driver’s torso, a _s if a long, thin object has penetrated the chest._ It was yet to be confirmed, but from experience Guillot knew that Dr. Gautier was seldom wrong. At this point, they couldn’t rule out the possibility that the bodies had been planted there. This investigation had suddenly taken an unexpected turn. An English family had possibly been murdered in France, a young, British girl might be missing, a mysterious corpse showing defects and abnormalities. He had no idea what he was up against, but his gut feeling told him that he would need all the help he could get. He found Pierre Simon and called the officer’s name. The policeman hurried over to the detective. ”Oui, monsieur?”

 

Guillot gave him a serious look. “Get me the London police and Interpol on the line now!”


	13. The Incomplete Maid and a New Detective

The girl was lying motionless on the bed. The maid stroked her chin, then she moved her hand over her chest and tummy. A woman… of flesh and blood… a princess… radiating the essence of life. She was complete. The maid was not, but soon she would be. She would take the Azoth _\- the measureless spirit of life_ from the girl. Then she would be able to feel joy and pain, to taste and smell. And the man would lust after _her_ instead of the girl, she would lure him into _her_ body, she would give birth, she would be complete. She pressed her hand down on the girl’s belly, on a spot just south of her navel. The girl raised her head and looked at her. The poison hadn’t worked, the princess was still alive. Slowly the maid turned towards the window…

Fiona was dreaming that she was in her own bed. Her mother was sitting next to her, caressing her chin. Her soft touch felt so real. She lowered her hand and suddenly her mother morphed into a hideous looking witch digging her nails into her stomach. The pain stirred Fiona awake. The last part hadn’t been a dream, someone had really been pressing hard on her abdomen. The maid stood over her, glaring deeply into her eyes. Her presence made Fiona uneasy. What was _she_ doing here? What had she been trying to do with her? Fiona sat up, her apprehension growing. _Something was very, very wrong._ The maid walked over to the panorama view, turned towards Fiona and said smilingly, “I’m not complete.”

She placed both hands on the window and started hitting her forehead on the glass. Fiona stumbled out of the bed and watched in horror as the maid kept hitting the glass harder and harder. Cracks started to appear, but the maid kept hammering the glass. She didn’t stop until the window was in pieces. She stretched out a hand and broke free a long and slender piece of glass, almost a meter in length. A highly dangerous, foolish and not to mention obviously painful act. But the maid was unaffected. She was not able to feel the sharp glass cutting into her flesh. Smilingly, she kissed the shard before turning to Fiona, slowly inching towards the terrified girl. Blood was dripping from her hand. She raised the deadly weapon over Fiona’s head.

Fiona couldn’t believe what was happening. Again, danger was staring her in the eye. Hewie was growling, Fiona could tell he was ready to attack. But considering the sharp piece of glass the maid was holding _that_ was too dangerous. It was better to make a run for it and try to get to the mansion. She called out for Hewie and ran out the door and down the stairs. She’d gotten to know the castle well by now and knew exactly how to get back to the tower. Though it might’ve been faster to take the route through the puppet room and climb the ladder outside the museum, she chose the same way they had walked with the maid earlier. It was easier for Hewie and the gate outside the music room was open now. Why would the maid wish to harm her!? She’d said she was not complete. _Not enough...?_ _Something I’ve got… or rather…_ The maid had been squeezing her stomach. _Something inside of me. She needs it? She needs me to get it? Out of my body?!_ The woman was obviously crazy. And far more dangerous than the pitiful creature. Only wanting to play, he’d never meant any harm, he just hadn’t been able to control his excitement. _She_ on the other hand, had intentionally tried to hurt Fiona. This just kept getting worse.

Fiona and Hewie ascended to the tower’s second floor. Hewie started immediately to growl at the sight of Daniella. Fiona backed away, shocked. _How had she gotten here so fast?_ When Daniella noticed the young girl, she turned and looked at her, her face cold and devoid of feelings. “Miss, it’s cleaning time now,” she said and resumed her activity. _What! You just attacked me. How can you be so nonchalant!_? It couldn’t have been someone else, could it? Was this a trap? The glass shard was nowhere to be seen. She called for Hewie and together they walked up to the third floor and unlocked the Saturnus door.

They walked over a bridge and into a passageway leading into the mansion. Behind them, the door slammed shut. The unexpected sound stunned Fiona and made her cover her ears in shock. The maid had entered, the glass sword back in her hand. Fiona bolted towards a door at the far end of the passage. She could hear Hewie barking somewhere behind her. She desperately called for him. She didn’t want him to attack the crazy maid; if he did, he could get severely hurt. She pulled the doorknob hard, the door flying up, and she started to climb a long staircase. Steps were flying past her as she hurried to get away. It was as if the stair would never end. There were too many steps and she was running to fast. She tripped and fell hard on her knee. Her kneecap throbbing like crazy, she flipped over to her back. The sound of footsteps told her the maid was near. Fiona tried to move, but she was like glued in place by horror and pain. The maid approached the defenceless girl, coming closer and closer.

Daniella had never been to these parts before. The Saturnus door had been locked for a long time and the inhabitants used a different route to get to the mansion. That’s why there was an undamaged, uncovered mirror mounted on the wall. Daniella turned, got a glimpse of her reflection, started to scream uncontrollably and covered her face, as if gone utterly mad. Hewie quickly darted past her. Fiona rose, thought it wise to keep her distance and though her knee still felt sore, she hurried for the exit. She couldn’t understand why the maid hated her own reflection. Her skin, her eyes, her body… they all looked fine. _Oh well, blame society I guess_ she shrugged.

She closed the door behind her to block out the maid’s hysterical screams and were now in what looked like a well of sorts or a drainage area. Water was floating under them. They descended a spiral staircase of stone and went up to a door. She placed her hand on the knob. A sound stopped her. She turned and peered into the water. The surface started to move, as if had someone opened a sluice. She took two steps forward to see if the water was draining. There seemed to be stairs going further down under the water surface. They were probably high up in the mansion. Suddenly more water started to flood in from a hole in the ceiling. Soon the whole area would be under water. Fiona and Hewie hurried out the door. There was no turning back. They were trapped in another strange place that wasn’t on the map. Fiona had a bad feeling about the whole situation. At least the maid was trapped on the other side. Right…

~*~

The CSI technicians had not been able to find any explosives on the remains of the vehicle. However, the entire car had been severely destroyed by fire, much more than what the gas left in the tank could’ve caused alone. Contrary to popular believes, a car’s gas tank rarely explodes after a collision or an impact. To even get the gasoline to ignite, you need a perfect mixture of evaporated gas and oxygen, which is very hard to obtain, and then you need a spark at the right time and in the right place. It’s nearly impossible to get a car to explode Hollywood style. An additional flammable fluid had probably been used. Guillot was flipping through the preliminary CSI report when Officer Simon knocked on his door.

“Excusez-moi Monsieur, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but a man from Interpol has arrived.”

“Merveilleux! Send him in, s’il vous plait.”

A tall man entered, around thirty, sand coloured hair and green eyes. He was almost a head higher than Guillot. Interpol investigator John E. Harrison was an Englishman who, despite his young age, had a lot of experience in the law enforcement area. Trained in the US, he worked two years at Los Angeles Police Department before heading back to England where he’d worked three years at New Scotland Yard. Eighteen months ago, he applied for an internship at the Interpol headquarters in Lyon, France to learn more about international cooperation amongst law enforcement agencies, fight world threatening criminals and to sharpen his French. The last part had gone rather well. He was now as fluent as a non-native speaker could be. With priority crime areas such as international criminal organizations, drugs and human trafficking, terrorism and tracing fugitives, this case wasn’t exactly Interpol material. But another one of Interpol’s responsibilities is to facilitate cross-border police co-operation and since Harrison was a former New Scotland Yard employee with contacts to English law enforcement agencies and between assignments right now it was decided that he would be assisting the French police in this case. It was convenient since Lyon is much closer to Digne than London is. Harrison arrived well within four hours.

The men shook hands and Harrison was happy that the French detective didn’t try to kiss his cheeks. The famous French custom wasn’t that common amongst men, but one could never know. Guillot updated the investigator; showed him the CSI report, pictures from the crime scene, pointing out interesting observations he’d made and told him what the coroner had said. Information about the Belli family had arrived from London. A copy of each of their driver’s license and passports had arrived by fax together with some basic information like the family’s address and their professions. The London police was still busy interviewing friends, colleagues and neighbours of the family. Guillot opened the folder on his desktop and the two investigators leaned over the desk and read the content.

Ugo Belli, 43, nationality: Italian, DOB July 5. 1963, hair colour: bald, eye colour: grey, height: 5’9”, occupation: handyman/freelancer/wine expert.

Ayla Belli, 39, born Donaldson, nationality: British, DOB January 19. 1966, hair colour: blonde, eye colour: blue: height: 5’5”, occupation: translator/language teacher.

Fiona Belli, 18, nationality: British, DOB October 9. 1986, hair colour: blonde, eye colour: blue, height: 5’4”, occupation: student at the University of Oxford.

Harrison picked up the photos, scrutinising them one by one. The mother and daughter were very much alike, both beautiful women.

“Is this the girl you suspect is missing?” he asked and held out the picture of Fiona.

“Oui,” the French detective confirmed. Harrison glanced at the girl in the photo again. “She’ll be 19 in three weeks,” he said. Guillot sighed and shook his head in a such-a-tragedy manner. The detective was undoubtedly very dedicated to his job. If he’d been a few inches shorter and had grown a moustache, he would have looked exactly like Hercule Poirot. Harrison had to force back a smile. He chose not to comment, as he was sure the Frenchman was fully aware of the similarity with the fictional Belgian detective.

“So,” the Englishman said, focusing on the case again. “What now?” Guillot picked up his keys. “We go and speak with the coroner,” he said. “He called me just before you arrived. He’s ready to discuss his preliminary findings with us.”

Harrison didn’t like autopsy rooms, but it was a necessary part of the job. He could smell different chemicals like disinfectants and organic solutions. However, there was no way to disguise the appalling stench of rotting flesh. The three corpses from the charred vehicle lay in the middle of the autopsy room, each on its own gurney. Dr. Gautier had the same dark eyes that most Frenchmen possessed, but his hair and skin had a lighter tone than the average French did. The men exchanged bonsoirs and then the investigators listened as the coroner informed them of the age, sex, height and ancestry of the two skeletons in the front seats. It was a perfect match for Ugo and Ayla Belli. He also informed that due to the highly unusual skeleton in the back seat, his final report wouldn’t be ready until the end of the month. He’d been consulting with his colleague all afternoon and still, the oddly shaped bones remained a mystery.

“The only thing I can say for sure is that it is a female,” Dr. Gautier said. “The pelvis is one of the bones with the least amount of deformity. Ancestry is impossible to assess and so is age. In some areas, the limbs appear to be fully adult, because the growth caps have completely fused, while in others they are not, as if she was still growing. The individual was suffering from kyphosis, tibia vara and pes planus, meaning she was hunch-backed, bow-legged and flat-footed. She also lacks two costae, three metacarpals and five phalanges. Three of her upper incisors and all her lower molars are completely fused together to one big tooth and she only has one wisdom teeth. Neither me, nor my colleague have ever seen or heard of all these conditions at once before. Not to mention general deformities that is present on almost every bone.” The doctor shook his head in disbelief.

Both Harrison and Guillot stared at the oddly shaped skull. Even to the untrained eye, the abnormally was obvious. They both thought the same. Guillot fished out the picture of Fiona from the case file and gave it to Gautier. “Can you for certain rule out that the remains on the table in front of us are the girl in this photo?” he said. The answer was obvious. She was most certainly not. “This young girl has very delicate features. It’s definitely not the same individual.” Fiona Belli was not one of the remains. The men felt both relieved and troubled.

The coroner resumed talking. “There’s one more thing I can say about the disfigured skeleton. Since the pelvis was not as deformed as the rest of the bones, I was able to conclude than she has probably given birth.”

The men looked puzzled. _Given birth?_ “She has a deep trench on each side of the pubic bones, which indicates child birth. Due to the unusual nature of the skeleton, it could be another anomaly, but I don’t think so. The pelvis area is the only bone that appears to be somewhat normal.” Dr Gautier scratched his head. Guillot had never seen the man so bewildered before. It worried him.

“How is that even… possible?” Harrison intervened, not knowing quite how to ask the question. The doctor shrugged. “I have a hard time understanding how she could have gotten pregnant, how she could have carried the child and cared for it.” _Not to mention who would impregnate her_ , Harrison thought.

“We have taken samples from the bone marrow for DNA analysis, but it will take weeks before the result arrives,” Gautier said. “I believe the abnormalities to be caused by several genetic defects. I doubt her babies survived long if at all. She probably gave stillbirth.” The doctor drew his breath. “Look gentlemen, this is strictly off-record but this female, she’s like an incomplete, faulty version of the human species.”

“What about the injury to the man’s chest, have you been able to draw any conclusions from that?” Guillot asked. “Oh yes,” the doctor eagerly moved over to the skeleton to the left. “The damage is not consistent with the kind you normally see from car accidents. As I suspected, the vertebrae show similar damage, which suggests a long and thin object has pierced through the man’s torso,” he informed while pointing out the injury to the investigators.

“Could the damage have come from a branch going through the front window and into the man’s chest?” Harrison wondered. “Highly unlikely,” Gautier responded. “If you notice the angle of the damage, starting high up in the torso around the heart, and ending much lower down here,” he pointed at the vertebrae. “That branch must have fallen from the sky,” he said. “It is consisted with someone standing over him and thrusting a sharp and thin object in to his chest.”

The men locked eyes. At the same moment both Guillot’s and Gautier’s mobile phones rang. The men went to each side of the room and spoke for about two minutes. Harrison could only hear muffled voices.

“Merde!” Guillot slammed his mobile shut and returned with a serious look on his face. Dr Gautier told his assistant to lock the corpses inside the cooler. “I’m terribly sorry Monsieur ‘arrison, this is most unfortunate, but I have to go,” he said in an apologetic voice. “There’s been a huge fire in an industrial building across town, the officers at the scene suspects arson and both I and Dr. Gautier are on duty tonight.” He reached into his pocket and picked up his car keys. “Here, take my car. I’ll go with Monsieur Gautier.” “You are welcome to use my office for as long as you like, however I doubt there’s much else we can do tonight. There is a nice hotel only two blocks from the station. I’ll talk to you later tonight or tomorrow morning. Au revoir, Monsieur.” With that, both men disappeared out the door.

The sun was low in the sky when Harrison returned to the police headquarters. It was a quiet, late afternoon and most of the employees had gone home for the day. However, there was still some buzzing around in the corridors. Harrison sat down in Guillot’s chair, rested his head a bit and started flipping through his notes. He had to sort the information somehow. Ugo Belli, likely the driver had probably been murdered. Fiona Belli was missing. No witnesses, no clues, no suspects, no motive, nothing. This wasn’t going to be easy…

But like most great detectives, Harrison was gifted with a sixth sense, a gut feeling that usually led him in the right direction. Not to mention a sharp brain. He walked over to the coffee machine and ordered black coffee. No café au lait for him, he wanted the real stuff. He had the feeling it would be a long night. He just had no idea how long. He zipped the warm, black fluid from the styrofoam cup and let his mind work. A young, beautiful girl missing. A grotesque, deformed individual with lots of flaws in her anatomy had taken her place. A deformed female that had given birth against all odds. A picture-perfect young woman was gone, replaced by this defected woman. A flawless woman that could produce flawless children instead of an incomplete creature that could only produce ‘failures’? Good Lord, was someone trying to create people? Images of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein flashed before his eyes. Then he remembered Dolly, the cloned sheep. Was someone out there trying to clone humans and in need of pristine DNA? Or an incubator? Or both? It was a crazy theory, still Harrison couldn’t shake the feeling that he was onto something. He knew that with the right knowledge and technology, it could be done. He looked at the picture of Fiona Belli again. Why her? The family wasn’t even from this country; they were going to Nice for a family trip. Her father murdered, the car burned in an isolated area. The person responsible had killed her father execution style; they’d gone to great lengths to cover their tracks, they had known exactly when and _where_ to strike. She hadn’t been a random victim. This girl had been hand-picked. He picked up the phone and dialled the number to a former colleague in New Scotland Yard.

“Hi Pete, it’s me John… Yeah, I’m good… No, the investigation isn’t going well, that’s the reason for my call. I need a full background check on the Belli family… Yes, all three of them... As fast as possible, please… You got the fax number. Great, thanks mate.” He hung up and watched the sun moving closer and closer to the horizon. Now all he could do was wait.


	14. The Mansion's Gloomy Hallways

Her footsteps echoed through the dim-lit hallway as Fiona walked down the dirty chessboard floor. Apparently, the maid didn’t attend to this part of the building. Fiona got the impression that no one had been in here for a long, long time. Unlike the castle, there were no chandeliers to illuminate the corridors. The only sources of light were a few small lamps with a single light bulb and some lit candles, which made the mansion dark and gloomy. The hallway was sparsely furnished with only a few randomly placed small, circular tables and accompanying chairs, a stark contrast to the castle’s numerous masterly crafted and sturdy furniture pieces, countless ornaments and spectacular art like paintings and sculptures. Fiona peered through a window to her left, but saw nothing but darkness. How long had she been asleep? Hewie was barking at a round hole in the wall just like the one Fiona had seen in the museum. She could feel a stale and damp gale of wind blowing from the other side of the opening.

“Why not?” she thought. With Hewie’s help, she had managed to get through the entire castle to this building unharmed. So far, they were doing well. Besides, she ought to check out every area anyways. However, Hewie had to wait outside. She promised the faithful canine she would only be gone for a minute, and then, she crawled into the dark hole.

On the other side was a small room, no more than 8x16 ft. Crammed bookcases lined the walls from top to bottom. Birdcages were dangling from the ceiling and several strange-looking machineries took up the other side of the room. She noticed a document written in Italian hanging on the wall to her right. The text appeared to be old, at least from the 17th century. Thanks to her parents, Fiona was bilingual and fluent in Italian. The sheet held information about the contraptions in the room called _Variation Machina_ and _Perpetuum Machina_ \- _by using a medallion one can actually transform items into new things which properties are roughly determined by the base items colour compatibility._ White (album) for humans, blue (viola) for animals, red (rubium) for antimony and magnesia and green (viride) for metallic objects like other medallions. _Whenever on hasn’t the means to protect oneself, come here for sanctuary._ _Aureolus Belli._ Fiona had never heard that name before. Had he once been the owner of these buildings? Was he her ancestor, or was it another Belli family altogether? A small table with scales and books on the desktop was placed in the middle of the room. The book seemed almost archaic in nature. She shifted through the pages and read about the different sorts of alchemic brewery that could be made by the Variation Machina. Health items for humans and animals like Quies, Mundus, Sedatio, Recreatio, Fortis, Remedium, Esca and Magna Esca. Precarious items such as Carbo, Nigred, Torva, Sylvestra Esca and Benneman Esca. She learned the name of the strange orbs that she’d tossed at Debilitas earlier; antimony powder (purple) and refined antimony (yellow). A third, even more powerful variant also existed, antimony tube, as well as another alchemic concoction called Magnesia, a diamond shaped crystal that would explode if stepped on. It came in three forms, Standard (green), Refined (red) and Prima (multi-coloured).

She turned to the peculiar contraption called Variatio Machina. Next to it was a wooden box filled with medallions. Fiona took one out, placed it inside the centre of the device and pressed start. A wheel started to spin and a button prompted Fiona to press stop. Every now and then, the dull, ash-grey would swiftly reveal its many hidden colours. After she’d pressed stop, another wheel started to spin, and then another. One by one, a total of nine wheels spun around the middle-centered medallion before the process ended. In order to forge a new item, at least two similar colours had to be directly connected to one another, which was harder than it sounded like. After three fruitless attempts, Fiona finally managed to get two white orbs in line and the machine started to glow. Her prize was a box filled with yellow-greenish pills. It said Quies x 2. Perfect! Her knee was still throbbing so she swallowed them. Hewie was howling impatiently outside, she’d better hurry. Just one more try. She picked up a blue medallion and placed it in the in the device. This time she got lucky and managed to connect four blue and two white orbs. She was rewarded with a cylinder containing pills with the colour of a late-summer lawn. The ancient book identified the substance as Magna Esca, a brewery that would fully heal a wounded animal and make it _happy_. With that, Fiona went back to the mansion’s dark hallways where Hewie was waiting.

She gave Hewie two of the tablets. The rest she would save for later. The canine seemed to appreciate the treat and let out a satisfying bark. There was a door with pottery plants on each side at the end of the corridor and some furniture in the hallway to her left. She decided to check out the left hall first, crossed another round table and went up to an old and unsteady showcase. Inside it, several discoloured bones lay in a pile. _I can lie to myself all I want_ , Fiona thought. _But there is no denying these are human bones_. Insects filled up another glass case. Why had she even bothered to look? Above the case hung a painting of a mother lovingly holding a child. The artwork had been a stunning masterpiece until someone had spoiled it by red paint. Blood red dye dotted the female’s body, flowing down the canvas creating the impression of a bleeding woman. The female’s face had been painted red altogether. Who would do such a thing? Fiona sought comfort in knowing that _that_ person was probably not around here anymore.

She called for Hewie and they went through a door to her left, into a dark area, only illuminated by a set of small lamps on the floor. Fiona followed the narrow pathway, turned right and ended up at another door. On each side of the trail were huge gaps. An enormous mammoth head dominated the area. Its trunk had been smashed into the path, and several blocks of stone were jumbled around the long nose of the prehistoric animal. Ears flat to his head, Hewie started whining. He was scared. No, terrified. Fiona wondered if he thought the mammoth was alive. She bent down and tried to comfort him the best she could. Through a glass wall next to the huge animal, a stuffed chimera was showing off its fierce gaze. _Why would anyone ever decorate a room with something so hideous?_

They hurried out of the creepy hallway and Fiona was relieved to be outside and breathe fresh air again. Hewie too seemed to feel better. They were walking on a wooden walkway attached to the outer wall. It was hard to tell how far above the ground they were, but definitely not at ground level. Dark shadows the shape of treetops stood out against the night blue sky and there was something white in the distance. Was that… mountaintops? The Alps? Or perhaps it was the Pyrenees? _Where in God’s name am I?_ Suddenly, she remembered. She and her parents had been driving through France. After going away to college, she hadn’t seen her parents for weeks and she had missed them so terribly. Her mum had suggested they take a few days off work and studies and do something nice together as a family. And what was nicer than a weekend holiday trip to Nice, her mother had laughed. Besides, Fiona needed to freshen up her French. Her father had been reluctant, but they had managed to convince him. Fiona had been thrilled. College was okay and so were her classmates, but she had such a hard time trusting and bonding to people. She’d always been shy, and she’d often feel lonely at Campus, sometimes even downright depressed. She’d never been interested in sports or partying and had spent most of her time studying in her room or in the library. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends, she just missed her life in London so terribly. The safe and quiet neighbourhood, the animal shelter, the ballet and piano lessons and not to mention her parents and her aunts. _Her parents…_ what he’d said, Riccardo, was it true? Her parents, dead? She could feel tension building up in her chest, making it hard to breath. Her lags gave in; she clung on the railing. Hewie stopped and looked up at the grief-struck girl clinging to the banister. She focused on her breathing. Deep inhalations, slow and controlled exhalations. She couldn’t let herself break down. Not here, not now. _That_ would be dangerous. For them both. She forced the tears back. If she started crying now, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop. She had to be strong, her parents would have wanted her to fight back. For herself, her parents and for Hewie, she had to be strong.

“I’m okay now Hewie,” she assured him.

The walkway turned out to be a dead end. The door leading back into the manor was locked from the other side. There was nothing else to do than to backtrack. She looked up in the partly clouded sky wondering if anyone was looking for her. She must’ve been reported missing by now, right? Though no one expected them to return to London for a few days, her aunts must’ve gotten suspicious when her mother didn’t call. She wondered if anyone at college would notice her being gone. She kept mostly to herself. Besides, her parents had always been a bit over protective, so Fiona had never been given much chance to lead a social life. It had never bothered her though. She would rather spend her time with the people she loved and felt comfortable with anyway.

Back in the mammoth hallway Hewie’s ears went flat once again, the dog was obviously petrified of the hideous looking creature. As soon as they were back in the main hallway, he seemed to be fine. Fiona hurried past the showcases, headed left and found herself surrounded by three doors. She ought to find a map as soon as possible so she would know where to go in this labyrinth of a mansion. The door to her right had windows on each side and led to a small veranda. She peered over the railing. They were definitely on the second floor. It was too dark to make out any details, but she was probably above a garden of sorts. She could see trees, a small building and haphazardly placed stones. Since there was no way to climb down from the balcony, she went inside and opened the door to her left and entered a small, globular room. The grandfather clock’s hands showed well beyond midnight. She’d been sleeping for nearly two hours! In the ceiling hung a chandelier, the first one Fiona had seen since leaving the castle. Hand-written notes lay on top of a desk and ornaments decorated a bookcase. Spheres of Antimony lay amongst the ornaments. The manor appeared to be uninhabited, but one could never know. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially in this place. She picked up a yellow one. A couple of plants were placed on the floor, and a figurine of a female clasping an unlit oil lamp was placed in the middle of the room. A peculiar pattern engraved into the floor encircled the small sculpture. A door next to the bookcase led into a wall of stone. What was up with this place? Holding on to the Magna Esca and the refined antimony, Fiona left the room and entered the door with plants on both sides. She walked into a small, cold and dark area, which was completely empty except for a mirror covered with a curtain. The splashing sound of water emerged from below. How odd. She moved through a door next to the covered mirror and entered a room that was completely opposite of the ones she’d so far seen. It was warm, moist and highly illuminated. Palm trees stretched towards the glass-made ceiling and below full-bodied flowers were stretching out in every direction in constantly watered flowerbeds. A luminessant made Fiona speed up her pace. They walked across a u-shaped bridge over the flowerbeds and exited on the other side of the same wall that they had entered. Fiona made sure to close the door between herself and the bothersome creature.

They entered a dirt-covered foyer, which bent slightly to the left. Behind her, another door led nowhere. A dead plant stood next to a red and filthy couch. An identical, and equally filthy one lined the other wall. A doll the size of a human was placed in the sofa to the right. It had long, blond hair and dressed in a crimson dress covered in dust and cobwebs. A closer look made Fiona realize that it was not a doll at all. It was, without a doubt, a mummy. The realization gave Fiona quite a shock. Would she ever get used to this place? Not that she wanted to. She could feel the mummy’s eyes burning in her neck as she walked away, the desire to escape growing stronger. In a small corridor to the left hung a dark painting entitled _Blue Flame, Secret Ways_. She walked up to a door at the end of the main hallway, turned the knob and found herself staring into another wall of stone. This place was seriously getting on her nerves. She felt the mummy watching her as she and Hewie searched for an exit. There had to be a secret passageway or something around here somewhere. She tried to knock on the walls and to turn the painting and the tiny masks decorating the walls. Nothing. After ten minutes, she started to lose hope. What now? Was she now trapped here, like the mummy had been many years ago? Would she suffer the same fate? No way. They had come too far to lose out to this hellish nightmare now. Fiona examined the painting more closely. Meticulously, she studied every detail. A young woman in a blue-hooded jacket was holding an oil lamp. A hand sticking out from the darkness was ready to grasp the young woman’s arm. A blue flame was burning brightly from inside the oil lamp. _Blue Flame, Secret Ways_. A peculiar title. A hidden message? Staring at the painting, Fiona tried to take in its essence. _What was it trying to say to her, what message was it conveying?_ It was almost as if the girl was guiding her deeper and deeper into the painting. She studied the oil lamp. Hadn’t she seen one like it just moments ago? Focus, Fiona, _think!_

Of course! The statuette in the room where she’d picked up the antimony. It had been holding an unlit oil-lamp. “Come on, boy, we have to go back and look for matches.” She hurried past the corpse and into the greenhouse, remembered the luminessant and spurted over the bridge. She’d hoped that glowing, purple thing had died by now. However, this was… bluer. It reminded her of - the painting. Could it really be that simple? She slowed down and let the bug follow her. She entered the circular room and kneeled behind the sculpture. A second later, the glowing orb crossed the entry. Heading towards Fiona, it smashed into the oil-lamp, igniting the wick. The floor started to shake and a deep, scraping sound of stone moving against stone could be heard from deep inside the building. A mesmerizing blue flame was now dancing from the wick, just like in the painting. Fiona and Hewie hurried back to the hallway where the mummy was resting to see if anything had happened.

She was not disappointed. The wall with the painting on it had moved several feet back and torches lit up a descending staircase. It led Fiona and Hewie to the lower area, passing a small sculpture and table they headed right. The floor here had the same chessboard pattern and small lamps hanging from the ceiling. Nevertheless, there was something different about this floor. Maybe it was the red-tinted arched windows to her left, giving the place an eerie atmosphere, even more so than the gloominess upstairs. Black steel crisscrossed the crimson glass in a mosaic pattern. It was like the flaming red colour was burning into the room. Or maybe it was the movement she saw behind the barrier she was walking next to. A fence going from floor to ceiling split the area in two and Fiona could swear she saw something green moving on the other side of the lattice. Hewie lowered his head and ears in apprehension and Fiona could hear the deep, guttural sound of hostility emerging from his throat. She focused her eyesight on the object. A hand was moving in steady, monotonous circular patterns, belonging to a woman dressed in green. She suddenly realized who, _the maid_. Behind the fence, absorbed in house-cleaning chores. She didn’t seem to notice Fiona’s presence, or maybe she was just ignoring her. The sight of the mad woman made Fiona’s pulse rise and once again, ice-cold grip of angst manifested inside her chest. _Maybe she’s locked inside the fence, unable to get out,_ Fiona pondered not really believing it. She hurried past the enclosure and through an arched doorway. She didn’t even notice the door behind her.

She was now in a T-shaped hallway illuminated only by three red lamps in the middle of the floor. On each side of the path was pitch-black gaps of darkness. Fiona walked straight ahead through an ached opening with no door and entered a small room that looked completely normal when compared to the rest of the mansion. It was clean, illuminated and there was no chessboard pattern on the floor. The two windows were square and with colourless glass. To her right stood a grandfather’s clock and a banister forged from wrought iron. She stepped down to a small sitting area. On the table, Fiona found what she’d been looking for, a hand drawn sketch of the Belli mansion. She picked it up, started to orient herself, and quickly found the T-shaped hallway she’d just crossed. The building was made up of numerous long and narrow hallways. There seemed to be no easy way to move from one part of the mansion to the other. She was in the building’s east wing and according to the map, the entrance was in the west wing. On the other side of the door to her left, a path led to the other side of the mansion. She turned the knob. Locked. Typical. In this labyrinth of a mansion, ‘no easy way to move from one area to the other’ was an understatement. Thanks to the map, she found an alternative route. She went back to the red, T-shaped hallway, through the other door and crossed a tiny, half-spherical area that held a children’s carousel made up of three white horses attached to a pole going from top to bottom, accompanied by carousel music. An elk’s head stared at her from the concave wall. It was slightly all disturbing. But at least she got over to the desired hallway.

Again, the floor was chessboard black and white. She passed a poster filled with jumbles of letters above a smear of dried blood. _Glowing Sun, Radiant Star, Luminescent Moonlight_. Before moving down the shady hallway, she unlocked the door into the sitting area, just in case. She passed a descending staircase to the left, rounded a corner, past a closed door and headed right. She wanted to leave, not explore. This part of the walkway was darker, dirtier and creepier. A covered mirror and three dolls the sizes of little girls were placed against the walls. She removed the curtain covering the mirror. If the maid started chasing her again, the mirror would distract her. Fiona felt like the dolls were tracing her steps as she made her way down the corridor. It was really creping her out. Hewie too, as he was growling at them. She tried not to look at them as she crossed the disturbing passage. She was starting to regret she had left the castle. But Lorenzo would never have sent her to this place if there wasn’t a way out, right? He obviously knew this place well, so she had to trust him. She walked through a door at the end of the passageway and found the path obstructed by water. Even if she did try to swim across, she wouldn’t be able to pull herself up on the other side. The edge was too high. She could see a door in the distance. Was that her way out of this hellish maze of a mansion? She had no choice but to go back and examine the areas she’d passed more closely. She sighted, turned around 180 degrees and retraced her steps, all while trying to ignore the creepy dolls the best she could. She had the uncanny feeling that the search for the manor’s entrance was going to be a living hell. She was right.

Her first stop was a door to her right. It led outside to a locked-up area. Hewie was running around, sniffing and searching every corner. To her left, a pillar of a seething flame was spewing forth from the stone-covert floor. Above it was a balcony, but she would be burned alive if she tried to reach for it now. Until she found a way to put out the fire, the only sane thing to do was to stay away. To her right, a locked door led into the greenhouse she’d passed through earlier. The universal symbol of femininity was carved into the door. A reference to Venus? There was nothing more out there besides a small statue clenching an oil lamp. Fiona turned to go inside and froze at the sight of the 3-headed monster guarding the entrance. It appeared to be some kind of dragon and even though it was made of stone, its flaming red eyes and wide-open mouth made her nervous. She noticed a small paper inside one of the monster’s mouths and quickly picked it up, remembering all too well what had happened the last time she’d put her hand inside a hole. She unfolded the paper; the handwriting was the same as the previous letter she’d retrieved from a gaping hole. Another helpful note from Lorenzo. _Dearest Fiona. I write this in hopes that you’ve made it this far. Speak the proper words to the 3-headed dragon personifying fire. Doing so will calm the blazing flames which incinerate all and show you the way. The words themselves are the name of spiritual essence. It is what we call SALT, SULFUR AND MERCURY. Be careful, my dear Fiona. Lorenzo._

 _Something above that would show her the way…_ she had to put the flame out somehow and get up there. _Speak the proper words to the 3-headed dragon…_ now how was she going to do that? She peered into the open mouths. There was a slot inside. She called out for Hewie to follow and they went inside the mansion to look for clues, passed the shady hallway, the sitting area, the red T-shaped passage and back to where the maid was cleaning. She’d taken a quick look down a dark path descending to her right in the hallway but had only found two locked doors engraved with the symbol of Jupiter. She noticed a door and hurried past the enclosed area. Fiona opened the door and closed it behind her. She was inside a restroom that had been unused for years. Another set of jumbled letters filled up a part of one wall. To her left was a toilet, a sink, some shelves filled with toilet requisites and to her right, a plate-pressing machine. She put the Magna Esca and refined Antimony down, tucked the map inside her boot and made three thin plates. Each plate had a word from Lorenzo’s letter stamped on it. With the 3 plates in hand, she examined the bathroom. She was a bit thirsty and wondered if the water was safe to drink. She turned the tap and fresh, clear water oozed from the faucet. She tried a zip. It tasted fine. She drank until she’d quenched her thirst. Hewie was sniffing one of the two bathtubs. The other one was filled with stagnating, reddish water. _It’s probably rust discoloration_ , Fiona thought. Un _less that red colour is coming from something else._ Was she just being paranoid, or was her uneasiness justifiable? Over the last few hours, she had learned to trust her own judgement. She had to get out of here before she died. If it hadn’t been for Hewie _that_ would’ve likely already happened. Her eyes caught a window covered with blinds. _I wonder what is going on outside this steel cage I seemed to have landed myself in?_ She decided to open the blinds to have a peak outside. She shouldn’t have.

At first, she saw only darkness, then an enormous creature passed by the window. Fiona jumped at the sudden movement. Puzzled, she wondered what had been floating by. It sounded crazy, but she could’ve sworn she’d just seen a fish from a different time period swimming by, looking exactly like one she’d seen in a natural history museum once. And who could’ve possibly fathom that this room was under water? Hewie was growling. She stirred into the darkness, but she couldn’t see anything else moving. It wasn’t until she stepped back that she noticed the reflection in the glass. It took her two seconds to realize it belonged to the maid, standing behind her. When she turned, she noticed Hewie’s rigid pose. He was ready to fight. So was Daniella. She hissed, raised the sharp glass she was holding and pointed it at Fiona. The petrified girl clenched the plates. She was cornered, trapped. The maid was blocking the door and the Antimony was lying next to the plate-pressing machine on the other side of the room.


	15. Riddles, Puzzles and Keys

Fiona had no choice but to order Hewie to attack. There was no way she could possibly escape. Besides, she could give him Magna Esca if he got hurt. The canine immediately started to bite Daniella’s ankle. While praying for Hewie’s - and her own safety, she dived past the maid as she was busy pulling herself free from Hewie’s jaws. She made a beamline towards the exit and ran straight into hard wood. Darn that door-closing maid! She yanked up the door at the very moment the maid pulled herself free. She swung the deadly glass in Hewie’s direction. Fiona closed her eyes as she heard the poor pooch whine. Still, the brave dog attacked the crazy woman again to protect her. Fiona could hear the maid struggling to break free. She dared to snatch the antimony. The insane maid yanked her hand free from Hewie’s grip, leaned her head back and let out a sinister chuckle. This was her chance. She threw the alchemic concoction at the insane maid, enclosing the mad woman inside yellow bursts of light. Fiona grabbed the Magna Esca, shouted out to Hewie to follow and they both ran out. She hid under a sofa while Hewie was limping around in the aisle outside, constantly yapping and whining of pain and fear. She watched the maid as she walked around with awkward steps, like a robot, searching for her, wanting to hurt her. Now and then, she would stop to call out Fiona’s name and to let out one of her hysterical laughs.

After a few minutes with no sign of the maid, Fiona figured she had a coast clear and crawled out from her hiding spot, wiped the dust of her skirt, unscrewed the lid of the Magna Esca and emptied the content into her hand. She found Hewie in the hallway outside, his snow-white fur soaked with blood.

“I’m so sorry, Hewie,” she stuttered, bursting with guilt. She held out her hand and Hewie licked up every single one of the green tablets. His soft and wet tongue stroked Fiona’s palm until every trace of the brewery was gone, and then he let out a satisfied bark. He held no grudge against Fiona. There had been no other way, he understood. Together, they went back to the dragon statue.

The SALT and SULFUR key plates closed the first two mouths, but the third had to be at least eight feet up in the air. No way she’d be able to reach it. She searched the sculpture for the best way to climb when suddenly Hewie started to bark vigorously. She turned to shush him; the crazy maid might hear it, but then she noticed his intense stare and eager panting.

_Hewie?_

The clever dog sniffed the plate in her hand, and barked again, energetically wagging his tail. She bent down, allowed him to take the stone plate in his mouth and watched in amazement as he lunged forward, leaped onto the first head, jumped once more and threw the plate into the remaining gap. Now all three of the dragon’s mouths were shut. Fiona was expecting the blazing fire to go out, but that was not what happened. The dragon’s six pair of eyes changed colour from burning red to clear blue and the burning fire magically transformed into a crystalline ice pillar. Fiona touched the cold and shiny surface. The flame had been frozen in place. _This could be my way up,_ she realized. She promised Hewie that she would be only a short moment, and then she carefully climbed the cold ice sculpture. Extremely careful with her footing, she made it up without much problem. She looked down at Hewie. The canine was relaxing on the stone floor next to the pillar. He didn’t seem to sense any danger; neither did he appear to be in agony. The bleeding from his side had stopped and the dog was now cleaning his fur with his tongue. The Magna Esca had done the trick.

Climbing onto a small balcony on the second floor, there was only one way to go. She passed through an open door and found herself inside what had to be the mansion study. Books filled up shelf after shelf, which lined the walls from top to bottom, and bookcases took up most of the space.

“What an incredible number of books,” she mumbled. The numerous volumes were written in various languages, many of whom she didn’t recognize. It was not Italian, not French or German or even Latin. Sanskrit perhaps? “Whoever read all of these must’ve had a superb education,” she thought. “They were probably considered a genius for their time… or our time for that matter.” She walked alongside the shelves, scanning the covers to see if she recognized any of the volumes.

“Hmpf! What am I doing?” she said aloud. She could just forget about it, she couldn’t even read the titles. Even the desk was filled with books. There was not a square inch of workspace left on the desktop. Fiona had a closer look. The mountain of books were journals composed in Italian. The oldest date was Feb. 8. 1784. _I have decided to summon that renounced master alchemist to the castle. There is talk that the count has used a technique called the “dry method” to obtain eternal life. Though some may consider it sacrilege, but with the Lord’s thankless cooperation, I’ll base my research off any findings obtained through their generous sacrifices._

The journals continued into the 19th century with dates ranging from 1822 to 1898. Apparently, this ‘dry method’ seemed to carry no side effects, was not bound by neither time nor any kind of ‘spiritual energies’, but it was still not enough to fully realize the writer’s dreams because even though the _dry method_ gave eternal life, the body would still decay. The Lord’s skin had crackled, his flesh rotted, and his entrails liquefied. After nearly one hundred years of research, it was concluded that further research would be pointless without the sacred Azoth. The last date was from Dec. 29. 1944. _My interest toward my dry method is waning. But I shall write its formula, as well as the result of my research here. A group of followers and I have calmed the four flames which symbolize the basic elements. Thusly, the alchemic chain has been ruptured and the spirit has been eternally freed from the body._

Followers… Calming the flame? It sounded like smaller steps to a larger process, but what? The dates were too spread out to have been written by one person. Fiona started to flip through the papers in search for more clues when she heard Hewie howling outside. She’d promised to be quick. But why had Lorenzo sent her up here in the first place? Had she missed something? A rusty, steep ladder was blocking the way in one of the back corners. There was something shiny on the top, but the ladder was in such bad shape that it would most certainly fall apart the second Fiona tried to climb the steps. However, the problem could easily be fixed with a good kick or two. It took three hits before the key fell to the floor. Fiona ran around the bookcase and picked up a tin forged key. The symbol Jupiter was engraved into its head. Now where had she seen this symbol earlier? Ah, the two twin doors at the lowest floor. A closed door led out of the study. It was locked, but the key was in the hole. Fiona was just about to turn it around, when she stopped, hesitated... Something felt wrong, very wrong. She had to trust her own judgment. She was not crazy or paranoid. Someone was standing on the other side of the door, waiting for her. She peered through the keyhole and jumped back. Her blood turned to ice. She could’ve sworn she’d just seen the maid’s green uniform. She peeked again, this time she could see Daniella’s blood-dripping hand holding onto the glass shard. Slowly Fiona backed away as silently as she could. The maid was without a doubt out to kill her, but why? What had Fiona done to her?

The door in the study just led out to the wooden walkway that she’d been on earlier, so there was no need to unlock it. Fiona tried to climb down the ice pillar the best she could, but on trembling legs, _that_ was easier said than done. Moreover, she had to hurry. The maid would soon realize that she had been found. She slid on the slippery surface and stumbled down the last two yards, called for Hewie to follow and hurried inside. In the middle of the corridor, she turned left and descended a spacious staircase. Half way down, the path divided in two. A warning sign hung on the wall, lit up by torches on each side. _The right path leads to the truth whilst the left path leads to deception. When the shroud of deception is lifted, the fog will fade and the hidden path will make itself known. Oh ye faithful flock, right these wrongs. If three truths exist, it must be so that three lies also exist._ Great, another riddle she had to solve.

The two rooms had been designed as a symmetrical match, like a mirror image to one another. Red candles were burning from chandeliers and lamps threw a cobweb of shadows on the stones. Closets stood next to the entrances and small tables were placed alongside the walls on each side of the rooms. Even the content on the tables were the same; different sorts of old chemical instruments with a stack of notes on one table, and a chessboard on the other. Models of different bugs and their accompanying sketches decorated the walls next to the entries. On the other side were two pairs of eerie wax figures and devices for distilling and huge, industrialized kilns were burning fiercely hot inside small alcoves. Nevertheless, there was something different about the room in the south. How should she put it? Something… just didn’t feel right. Even though the maid was in the north room poking the fire under the furnace, she still felt more uneasy inside the south room. The wax figures made her hairs stand up. These things wouldn’t come to life like in the movies, right? Wait a second; there _was_ something different about this pair. The standing figure’s hand was resting on the shoulder of the crouching figure. In the other room, both arms hung down to the sides. She removed the hand from its partner’s shoulder. It felt dry and leathery, not like wax at all. A deep rumble could be heard and the whole building started to shake. Hewie was running in circles, barking furiously. The sound of chains could be heard, a shift of gears and then something shifted into place. After a few seconds, it was quiet again.

Fiona shifted, feeling uneasy. Had something moved? Then she noticed the massive hourglass on a shelf next to the furnace. Unlike the one in the other room, all the sand was gathered at the bottom. Fiona turned the heavy thing around. It was quite a task. Once again, she heard rumbling, shaking and shifting of gears. What on earth was going on? The words from the sign she’d just read flashed before her eyes, a mysterious riddle of forewarning. _Right these wrongs… three truths… three lies…_ Was she in a twisted game of _find the three errors_? Was her own life the price she’d have to pay if she made a mistake? She turned to look at the wax figures again; chills going down her spine. She’d found two ‘wrongs’. The kiln was burning fiercely hot. The maid had been shifting through the burning coal. She picked up the glowing fire poker. “ _No!”_ a voice said inside her. She immediately dropped it like it was contagious; _it was a set up_. She stepped back; knowing she had to be watchful. She didn’t notice anything different about the distilling device or the items on the table to the north. She wondered what sort of liquid was inside the flasks. She studied the bug models on the wall above. She’d never seen such bugs before. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t find anything that was different from the other room. She turned to the other table. A chessboard covered half the surface. Here of all places? _I guess they used it to take their mind off things_. While she was studying the pieces, she felt a tingle under her skin. Something _was_ different. The chessboard, it was the last piece of this sinister puzzle she _knew_ it. She closed her eyes, trying to remember how the pieces had been arranged in the other room. With trembling, clammy fingers, she moved the pieces, and felt a surge of relief when she heard the rumbling and shaking for the third time. She was done here, time to find out what she’d triggered.

Up in the hallway everything looked just as dark and eerie as before. Fiona wondered which way to go when Hewie started growling. His body tensed and his ears went back. A moment later, Fiona heard footsteps coming from the other hall. She quickly tiptoed over to a column and crouched behind it, cursing at the noise her boots made.

“Miss Fiona?”

The maid rounded the corner. Fiona held her breath, hoping the woman wouldn’t find her. Hewie was barking and running up and down the corridor, sneering at the woman in green. The maid stopped, scanned the area and turned the other way. A minute later, a high-pitch scream could be heard followed by the sound of glass breaking. The maid had found the mirror Fiona had uncovered earlier. The highly unstable woman came back into the hallway where Fiona was hiding, walking in awkward, robotic steps. Was she really a cyborg or an android of sorts like she had been hinting to at the dinner table? Daniella stopped, shook her head and called out Fiona’s name over and over. It sounded like something was jumbling inside her head. Then she resumed staggering over the chessboard floor and disappeared through a door. Hewie was right next to Fiona so she signalled for him to follow her and they went inside a room nearby and crossed the carousel with the intent of escaping through the T-shaped walkway on the other side without the psychotic maid noticing. Was she really a man-made woman? A flawlessly created woman that happened to be broken? The giant, was he a creation too? Who had created them? What was Lorenzo’s role in this? And where in God’s name had she ended up now?

Definitely not back in the red-lit T-hallway, Fiona stepped down a small set of stairs and looked around, perplexed. Thin bladed sabres lined the wall to her right and a table to her left was filled with sadistic instruments like restraints, a whip and various surgical instruments. All of them covered in rust and dried blood. Of course. What would a well-hidden, eerie and mysterious medieval castle be without its very own secret torture room. A stretching mechanism lined the wall in front of her. _God only knows who they used it on…_ On the other side of the room, an oven burned an angry red. _I’d rather not think about the kind of things they burn using this oven,_ she mumbled. _Especially in this creepy place._ Warily, she looked around, hair rising on her skin. Alcoves on both sides of the furnace housed a divine statue to the left and a huge birdcage to the right. The cage seemed too large to be for birds, but too small for a person. On the other side, huge spikes jutted out from inside an iron maiden. Chains and handcuffs were screwed on to the walls and the floor was caked with old, dried-up blood. But it was the corpse in the middle of the room that caught Fiona’s attention. A cord connected the chair it was sitting on to a circuit breaker, which told Fiona that the chair hadn’t been used for sitting, but something far more diabolical.

Fiona stepped up to the mummified body. Except for a small piece of cloth wrapped around the hips, it was completely naked. Scars on its leathery skin suggested heavy torture. An inverted Y-incision intersected the chest. A key hung from its neck. As Fiona reached out to take it, the corpse grabbed her hand, raised its head and stared fiercely into her eyes. It held on to her wrist for a moment before letting go, hissing. The unexpected clutch and the horrific realization of what had just happened sent Fiona screaming to the floor. She stood up on shaking legs and locked eyes at the being in the chair. _A body had just attacked her_! Keeping her distance, she carefully examined the body from head to toe. It was a corpse no doubt, but still, it wasn’t dead. Or more precisely, the body was dead. It had decayed a long time ago, but the soul, the spirit, was still there somehow, attached to the body. Fiona came to think of the journals she’d read in the study. About the Lord whose flesh had decayed, skin rotted, and entrails liquefied, but he still lived on. Had this person been exposed to the ‘dry method’? Had he, unable to die, been incessantly tortured and tormented by some cruel person? Or persons? Who’d do such a thing? Moreover, why didn’t the soul leave the cadaver? Her eyes wandered to the sculpture behind, portraying two individuals each holding a pot, and two similar pots were standing over their heads and by the feet. All the jars had a triangle carved into the front and they were emitting a yellow flame. The triangles were presented in the colours red, green, blue and yellow. On the floor in front of the statue were four square-shaped platforms. The same triangles were carved onto the elevations, and were also in red, yellow, green and blue. Was it a tool used to torture innocent victims? Tiny letters engraved on the statue described the four basic elements fire, air, earth and water. Fire was composed of hotness and dryness, air of hotness and moistness, earth of dryness and coldness and water of moistness and coldness. From what Fiona could gather, red represented hotness and blue moistness, meaning red and blue symbolized air. Yellow stood for dryness and green for coldness, so yellow and green meant earth. Finally, Yellow and red was fire and blue and green was water. Moreover, it appeared to be what was holding on to the soul. Fiona stepped onto the platform to the right, with the red triangle, to read the last part. The elevation disappeared and the platform now had the same level as the rest of the floor.

_And so, by linking these four elements together it is said that the fundamental Karena Aurea or ‘alchemic bond’ is formed. That which binds flesh and spirit together for an infinitum._

Hewie was sniffing around and eventually stepped on the elevation to the left. The fire went out in the jar with the red triangle. “Stop!” Fiona exclaimed. The journals in the study, _this_ is what they had been referring to. In order to free the spirit from the body one had to calm the four flames that symbolized the four basic elements. She stepped over to the platform with the green triangle and the flame protruding from the jar at the bottom died out.

“Come on, boy” she said to Hewie and pointed at the last elevation with the blue triangle. The last flames went out and the spirit freed itself from the body in a cascade of blue fireworks that disappeared into the jars. The flames turned from a bright, hot yellow to a clear and cool blue. Any remaining life energy in the corpse had been totally drained away, sucked out by the statue behind it. Fiona was now free to grab the copper-forged Venus key, which would unlock the door into the greenhouse. As she did, she couldn’t help but noticing the peaceful look on its face. Like it had wanted to die this whole time.

Out in the hallway again, Fiona wondered to where the door in the T-section would lead. Deciding to find out, she called for Hewie, found her way into the red hallway and went through the door. The carousel here was different, the three horses had been painted red, and the music sounded off-key. Wait… what was that smell? It smelled like… like something was alive. Surely, it was just red paint and not… no, best not to think about it. She’d be fine if she just didn’t think about it. She realized it, a moment before she entered the area. She’d end up inside the cage… where the psychotic, murderous maid was cleaning. Fiona tiptoed back to the door, hoping the maid wouldn’t notice her, but with Hewie growling that was impossible. Daniella turned and spoke in her usual low, monotonous tone.

“Miss Fiona.” She tilted her head. “What a dirty little princess.” She picked out a lavender coloured crystal from a pocket and gave it to Fiona. “A small present from the Lord of the castle,” she explained and then she turned.

“But...?” Fiona stuttered, perplexed. Daniella turned once more. “Miss, it’s cleaning time now.” Then she resumed polishing the already pristine table. Light from the glass shard behind her sent shivers down Fiona’s spine. _Cleaning time_ could be over any minute, so they had better get moving. Moreover, if the giant and the maid really were created, she damn sure wasn’t staying around to meet the creator.


	16. The Graveyard

Inside the greenhouse, full-bodied flowers of various colours sprouted from the beds. The warm and damp air made it hard to breathe. Palm trees, exotic leaves and water pipes made up the rest of the inventory. Fiona picked up a plant with yellow blossoms from the floor. A high-pitch shriek ruptured the air, making her cringe and cover her ears in pain. After a few seconds, it stopped. Fiona stared at the plant she just held in her hand, totally dried out. She’d never look at a plant the same way again…

It seemed that the flowers were in need of a constant supply of light and water. An info sheet about the plants hung at the far-end wall. First, she thought it said Magnolia, but it actually said Mandragora. She’d never heard of it before. The story behind the making of the Mandragora and their use was as dark and mysterious as the rest of the castle. However, there was one word that caught her attention, _Hebel_. The crystalline holder that the maid had given her had been labelled Hebel perfume. She turned the small card. _Made with the extracted essence of the Hebel flower._ She’d taken a sniff at the liquid in the hallway earlier but hadn’t smelled anything. A perfume sans odour. Or maybe the smell was just undetectable to humans. Hewie might be a different story.

“That big nose has to serve some purpose, right boy,” she said to the dog as she let him sniff the opened bottle. Hewie’s response was imminent. He went over to the bed holding only white flowers and barked. The only problem was that Fiona had no idea what to do with the plants, or even if she needed them at all. According to the info sheet, the leaves were poisonous, and she didn’t feel like running around at random with a screaming plant that might be hazardous. Especially with that cruel and highly dangerous woman was lurking around. The info sheet, the perfume, Hewie barking at the white flowers, it couldn’t be a coincidence. However, there were no more hints in the greenhouse, so she called out to Hewie and they somewhat reluctantly headed back to the mansion.

She walked through the now well-known corridors as silently as she could. So much had happened over the last thirty minutes, so many new rooms to explore, so much new information. She tried to gather her thoughts and relive the last half hour but having to simultaneously listen for footsteps it was hard to focus. Perhaps she should revisit every room in case she’d missed something. A voice in her head told her that wasn’t necessary. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. The thought of going back to the torture room was - wait a sec, _the torture room._ It hadn’t been accessible until after she’d solved the Jupiter puzzle. But the rumbling noise and the shifting of gears had been too loud and forceful to just turn the carousel. The whole building had been shaking. Something else must’ve happened as well. Fiona made a full turn, went past the eerie dolls and the shattered mirror. On the other side of the door at the end of the hallway, a bridge had been lowered from the upper floor and Fiona could now reach the door on the other side. Thankful and optimistic, she called out Hewie’s name crossed the bridge, opened the door, and stepped out to a garden. From where she stood, she could see the manor’s full shape. The west wing was to the left, so she walked over the grass, sick-sacked bushes and gravestones and avoided a luminessant. In the middle of the garden, a closed gate blocked her way. Typical! She peered through the bars. On the other side were more gravestones and an entry into the building. The windows were the same flaming red as she’d seen earlier. She wondered if the west wing would prove just as hard to - wait… gravestones…? Slowly, she turned, her eyes scanning the area. Hewie was barking at a luminessant dancing in the air. It came closer. Up on the second floor, she could see the balcony she’d been standing on earlier. Her skin tingled, again. The rocks around her… They were gravestones. She wasn’t in a garden she was in a graveyard!

Even worse, it was another dead end. She wanted to sit down and cry, to scream out in anger, sorrow and frustration. Why did this keep happening to her, _why?_ But she was afraid that if she did that, this graveyard would end up as her last resting place as well. Spending eternity here sent shivers down her spine. The thought of being buried here among… well, whoever was interred here. She examined the gravestones. Hm, curious. She dodged the luminessant, walked the full length of the area she had access to and read the gravestones. Though each stone were engraved with a different DOB and DOD, they all had the same name. _Aureolus Belli._ Now what in the world could _this_ mean? But more importantly, was there a secret passage going from here over to the other side? She retrieved the map from her boot and scrutinized both sides, closely examining every detail. She forgot about the luminessant until it hit her forehead, erupting a loud noise in the process. A jolt of electricity went through Fiona’s body and sent a wave of pain down her chest. She cursed and rubbed her temple. Luckily, the maid didn’t appear. Only seconds later, the other luminessant vanished into thin air. But she quickly forgot about the unpleasant experience, she had just found a series of pathways going under the gard… eh, graveyard, and the entry point seemed to be… the mausoleum! _Great._ She walked up to the entrance where Hewie was sneering. Words were written on a plate in front of the chamber. This did not sound promising. _Dead spirits craving for life, crawling back from the underworld. Sip of the fresh-flowing life blood. When you thirst is quenched, return to the darkness from where you came._

Spirits? Life blood? _No matter how you cut it, these don’t sound like the words of rest spoken to the dearly departed._ Warily, she stepped around the corner. It was too dark to see anything, though it did look like there could be something moving in the back. But really, spirits craving for life blood? It sounded like the kind of ghost stories kids tells each other around a campfire. She focused her eyes on the object, and the ghost story became real. A skeletonized hand emerged from darkness and waved at Fiona in a _come here_ -gesture. _I don’t think so._ For the second time in the last hour, Fiona jumped back at the sudden and unexpected realization that a corpse was grasping for her arm. However, this time she managed to back away in time. She stood up and watched the bizarre sight of a moving skeleton hand. Though it didn’t seem too terribly dangerous, she had the feeling that if she started poking her hands in a place they shouldn’t be she could get sucked right in, a lesson she’d learned all too well. She’d been attacked, pulled and dragged more than once over the last couple of hours _doing just that_.

“It’s almost as if it wants something…” she thought, crouching to get a better view of the crypt’s floor. “There are traces as if something has recently been ripped to shreds here. It looks rather dried out, but I think it’s a plant of sorts.” A dried-out plant? Life blood? What did the info sheet say again?

“Come on, boy,” she called out and hasted back to the greenhouse.

Short of breath from constantly running, she skimmed through the Mandragora info sheet. Hewie was still barking at the bed with the white flowers. She’d been right; the plants growing here was created and cultivated to be given as sacrifice to the dead spirits in the crypt. _In order to procure the large quantity of blood required to complete the grand process, a fusion of plant and animal known as the floranimalia was created. It was originally derived form a secret formula and named the Mandragora. Multiple plant types were fused in an attempt to create the Mandragora, but only the combination of the Hebel seemed to process a similar liquid composition. In current research, our subjects are nearly identical to the real Mandragora. Flower colour and an ever so faintly difference in smell is the only way to tell the original from the substitute._

Fiona glanced at the crystalline flask standing on the edge of a flowerbed. The Hebel perfume, made from the essence of the Hebel flower, - the white Mandragora. A present from the Lord of the castle. Lorenzo? Apparently, Hewie had pointed out the right plant. So, all she needed to do now was pull out one of the white flowers and give it to the spirit and they’d be allowed to enter the crypt. Sounded easy enough. Or maybe not.

Fiona read on, _Caution must be exercised. If the Mandragora is ever uprooted, it has two powerful defence mechanisms. It emits a loud ear-rupturing shriek, and it can paralyse its attacker with its poisonous leaves. If the situation becomes too dangerous, one should quickly throw away the Mandragora to get out of harms way._

She’d already heard the ear-rupturing shriek, and the thought of running around holding a poisonous plant made her more than a little uneasy, but it was the only way to access the crypt. She walked up to the bed, white blossomed plants sprouting from the soil.

“Ok, Hewie. Here goes nothing,” she said, drew a deep breath and yanked one free.

The flower’s root let out an ear-splitting shriek. She had no idea if it was a scream of pain, fear or just plain instinct, a reaction to the exposure to light. She opted for the last option; how was it even possible for a plant to scream in the first place? She didn’t want to ponder on the process of fusing a plant and animal; she just wanted to move on. The poison was already starting to show its effect. The skin that was in direct contact with the leaves was burning, itched and singed, and her pulse was racing faster and faster. Had it not been for the earrings, she’d be done for. She ran out the door, under the three-headed dragon and straight into Daniella.

Fiona screamed in horror and quickly back stepped to avoid getting hit by the sharp glass. In doing so, she tripped on her feet, staggered forward, tripped over a stone and went flying through the air. She fell hard on her back. The maid leaned back and chuckled, seemingly enjoying the spectacle. Hewie started biting her leg and she vigorously shook her body to free herself. Fiona tried to get up, but she was so shaky. The poison was already flowing in her veins and she felt the panic rising fast, too fast. Daniella shook Hewie of and she could hear the dog howl in pain. The maid headed straight to Fiona and waved her deadly weapon at the petrified girl. She barely missed and Fiona felt it whooshing past her, stumbled back and fell to the floor once more. Holding on to the plant, she crawled over the dirty chessboard floor, barely able to control her breathing. Her mouth was dry, and her heart pounded so hard it threatened to break her ribs. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard the muffled sound of Hewie barking somewhere in the distance and the maid’s footsteps behind her.

Daniella stopped next to Fiona, held the glass up to her face to study the transparent object, then she stretched out her hands and laughed. She’d always had such a hard time understanding how something as beautiful as broken glass could be so dangerous. She would always pick up pieces of it whenever she found it. She knew she wasn’t allowed to, but she couldn’t help herself. Between her chores, she could sit for hours caressing the pieces. She loved how the clear, translucent crystal reflected light. Pure and flawless, it was - perfect. And now she would use it to kill the filthy girl. Miss Fiona had been running and screaming for many hours and now she lay defenceless on the filthy floor. She was scared, terrified of feeling pain. Daniella couldn’t understand why, but it didn’t matter. Soon the girl would die, and _she_ would finally be whole. Daniella enjoyed every second. She raised her weapon high over Fiona’s body ready to deliver the killing stroke.

Hewie attacked the malicious woman just in time to save Fiona from being stabbed to death. By jumping on her back and biting her shoulders, he gave Fiona an opening. Daniella was much smaller than Debilitas and the weight of the Alsatian made her stumble. “No.” she said, struggling to keep balance. In full panic, Fiona forced herself up with an ear-splitting scream. Her legs seemed to be moving by themselves. Though she could hardly see what was in front of her and her feet would barely carry her, she was stumbling as fast as she could through the manor, constantly crashing into stone or metal while trying not to trip or fall. She had no idea where she was heading, but she could feel her legs stumbling upstairs, crashing into more stone and running through a dark and narrow hallway. She hadn’t been there before, but she knew it was a dead end. Luminessants were flying down the narrow passageway; she had to get out _\- now_. She managed to make a 180-degree turn and head the other way. The maid was just a few steps behind. Fiona ran faster and faster, screaming higher and higher. Darkness, then brightness and moistness, then it went dark again. She ran until she was abruptly stopped by a gap in the floor. It had been lowered earlier to allow passage to the graveyard. Balancing at the edge of the empty space she focused hard on not falling down. The poison seeping from the leaves and into her veins was building up, threatening her sanity. She heard footsteps. The maid was coming, and she was trapped.

Fiona had to use all her willpower and strength to force her centre of gravity away from the hole. She staggered backwards and grabbed hold of a piece of cloth behind her. The fabric gave in and she slid to the floor before coming to a halt. At that moment, the maid entered the room. When she saw Fiona, she hissed and raised the deadly shard. For a few seconds, she stared smilingly at the terrified young girl before lunging towards her at full speed. Fiona could do nothing but pray for a miracle.

Faith was smiling on her once more. The cloth had covered a mirror. The maid caught a glimpse of her reflection and started to scream like the insane woman she was. Fiona spurted past her, yanked the door open and ran for her life. Half way over the greenhouse catwalk, she heard the mirror shatter. Her heart racing, she kept running towards the stairs, trying hard not to panic. She met Hewie at the top of the stairway and yelled his name. With the dog close by, she stumbled down the steps. She used the wall as support as there were no banisters, rounded a corner and kept going. Every two seconds she tripped forward and had to yank herself up. Finally, she reached the graveyard. She just had to pause for a moment; her heart was beating so hard and fast. Her muscles were acing, and her throat felt like sandpaper. She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. Hewie was running impatiently around in circles, urging her to move on. With trembling feet, she inched towards the mausoleum. The terror and poison had almost immobilized her. She had to get rid of the Mandragora before the toxin paralysed her completely. Once free from the poisonous leaves, the silver earrings with the shape of the uroboros would eventually calm her down. She had to get over there before the maid found her. She had to…

After what felt like hours, she finally reached the vault’s entry. The spirits were waiting. The skeleton hand waved impatiently in the air and what sounded like growling emerged from the darkness. Did spirits growl? With trembling fingers, she placed the Mandragora in the corpse’s hand. The bony fingers closed around the plant and disappeared into the shadows. A high-pitch shriek, louder than the ones she’d heard in the greenhouse ruptured the air mixed with a gnawing sound emerging from inside the mausoleum. The deafening noise pierced through Fiona’s bones, so loud it was directly painful. She covered her ears, moaned and cringed in agony. The screeching lasted for about half a minute, and then it went dead silent. Whatever had been guarding the entry was now gone.

Fiona and Hewie stared into the infinite darkness. Did she dare to enter? On the other hand, was it any safer up here? “Come on Hewie,” she finally said. To no one. The canine had left her side. “Hewie?” Bewildered, Fiona looked over her shoulder. He’d been right here just a minute ago. She started to look for her canine friend, walking around the area, calling his name. A sudden sensation of being watched made her shiver. Alarmed, she turned. Her eyes widened in horror. The maid, she was standing only two yards behind her. With a faint smirk, she slowly side stepped to corner the young woman, cutting of possible escape routes. The earrings had calmed Fiona down and her body had already started to break down the poison, but now she could feel the fear building up again. Hands to her chest, she stepped back. Should she make a run for it? No! Not without Hewie.

Speaking of, the canine magically appeared, jumping out from a bush. The brave dog was standing as a guardian between Fiona and Daniella, fiercely growling and sneering at the malicious maid. Daniella swung her sword of glass at him, but Hewie dodged the deadly swipe by jumping back at the last minute. He lowered his back and raised his tail as to increase his attack power to maximum, then he attacked with full force. Fiona watched in astonishment as the dog pinned the woman to the ground, ferociously biting and tugging her hands and arms. The maid was just lying there, completely motionless. She wasn’t even making a sound. It was as if she was just waiting for it to be over.

 _“Hewie!”_ Though grateful that he’d saved her, she called him back. Despite being psychotic and murderous, she couldn’t just stand and watch the woman being killed. She just couldn’t. Hewie let go of Daniella and walked over to Fiona’s side. The maid was lying in a pile of blood. Fiona thought she had seen the woman’s chest slowly moving up and down, but she wasn’t sure. However, she didn’t dare to check for a pulse. There was nothing she could do for the woman without risking her own life. Together, they warily stepped into the darkness and descended into the crypt.


	17. A Breakthrough or a Dead End?

The background check of Fiona Belli yielded little of interest. Born in London in 1986, she’d been dancing ballet since the age of 4, took piano lessons from the age 10 till she turned 16 and worked at an animal shelter from the age of 14 until starting college this year. Described as shy and quiet, with a few close friends but very close to her parents and aunts. She goes to college in Oxford where she attends courses in History of Arts and English Language and Literature. According to her aunts, she has been talking about enrolling to a course in Science and Medicine next year. Harrison stretched both arms over his head, memories of being young and having to choose a future career filling his mind. Having no idea what he’d wanted to do with his life, he’d gone off to The United Stated to spend one year at a high school in Montana and had ended up living there for over 5 years.

Except for being somewhat less social than what was common for girls her age, there was nothing out of the ordinary about Miss Belli. He put her file down and opened Mrs. Ayla Belli’s folder. She’d been born in London in 1966 of Liam and Sylvia Donaldson as the second of three girls. Her father had been a journalist and her mother had been working at a boutique. The older sister, Amanda, was a 50-year-old nurse with no family of her own. The younger sister, Sophia, was 32 and worked as a freelance journalist. Their father had suffered a major coronary attack at the age of 50 and died shortly thereafter, their mother was living at an old people’s home. As a young child, Ayla Donaldson had been a prodigy and was exceptionally talented in subjects like mathematics, chemistry and biology. At the age of 17, she spoke four languages. In 1984, she was accepted at a prestigious college in Milan, Italy where, over the next two years, she would be studying biochemistry, molecular biology and the newest breakthrough in DNA-technology. However, she had returned to England only one year later, in January 1986. A few days later she married Ugo Belli and ten months later, Fiona was born. She’d never picked up on her studies, but she learned three more languages and, besides working as a translator, she worked as a supply language teacher for schools and academies.

“Why would she waste such an opportunity?” Harrison pondered. Simple math told him that Mrs Belli hadn’t been pregnant when she’d left Italy so why the rush? He opened the folder on Ugo Belli hoping it would answer some of his questions. It did, or more precisely, the complete lack of information about Mr. Belli before he came to England told Harrison that something was amiss. There was the usual info about previous and current employments, accounts from his sisters-in-law and some other insignificant facts, everything from the last twenty years. It was as if the man didn’t exist until January 1986. Sure, there was a DOB, but no birth certificate or any other documentation to verify its authenticity. Harrison flipped his notebook to a clean page, wrote the names of Ayla and Ugo Belli and the years 1985 under Ayla’s name and <1986 under Ugo’s name. Then he drew a huge question mark. After pressing some keys on his laptop, the number to the University in Milan came up on the screen. Peering out the window, he could see the sky turning red. Sunset was under an hour away. He flipped open his mobile and dialled the number, praying that he wasn’t the only one working late. He got directed to the right department, was put on hold and after what seemed like an eternity, he was finally speaking with one of Ayla’s former professors. Harrison was rewarded for his long wait, not only was the professor fluent in English, he also remembered Miss Donaldson quite well. The aspiring and gifted Signorina had enrolled to his class, excited about studying the state of the art and cutting-edge technology in DNA technology. She’d loved her studies and still to this day, she’d been one of his best students. Then one day, in August 1985, just before the start of the semester, she dropped out of the university and left shortly thereafter. Apparently, she’d received an offer she couldn’t say no to. The mysterious corporation had demanded absolute anonymity and full discretion, but from what he understood, it had been a family corporation not far away. He didn’t know anyone with the name Ugo Belli. Harrison thanked him and hung up. That mysterious company that Mrs Belli had left the university for, was there a connection to Ugo Belli? To this case? He googled “Belli,” “Family business” and “Italy” and made some more phone calls. Nothing. He had no idea if this was relevant to Fiona Belli’s disappearance or not, but it was the only lead he had. He thought about the deformed corpse found in the back seat of the charred vehicle. Maybe they’re not online at all? They probably held a low profile. Whoever _they_ are. After a quick search, he found an expert of northern Italy history and the Interpol division in Italy provided him with the home number.

Signora Azzura Casartelli answered on the third ring. Harrison politely presented himself and apologised for phoning her at home but stressed the importance of the call. Excited to be able to help an Interpol investigator, she assured him in heavily accented English that it was no problem.

“How can I help you Signor Harrison?” she asked.

“In one of our investigations, the name Belli has come up,” Harrison started. He didn’t wish to go into more detail than necessary, but he had to make sure she understood how important this was. “I need information about families or businesses in northern Italy that have the name Belli associated with them as soon as possible. A young woman’s life may depend on it,” he urged and gave her his mobile number.

“Oh my. I’ll see what I can do,” she responded. “Belli isn’t that common of a name, but there is still a lot of data I need to go through. My final results won’t be available until tomorrow evening.”

Harrison hesitated. “Please call me within the hour and give me an overview, Signora.” Just before he hung up, he said, “Limit your research to the rural parts. The more desolate the area is the better.”

As soon as he’d hung up, Guillot called. He would be spending the rest of the evening investigating the incinerated building and interrogating eye-witnesses and then he would go home. He advised Harrison to do the same, but the British detective had no intention to do so. Instead, he updated the Frenchman about the background check of the Belli family and told him about his theories. Guillot didn’t answer right away. When he eventually spoke, he admitted that it sounded interesting and that he would read through the notes first thing tomorrow. His voice however, conveyed doubt. Harrison was used to that. A moment later, Dr. Gautier called. He’d just been speaking to the odontologist. Ugo and Ayla Belli were now confirmed dead and Fiona Belli was officially listed as missing. Harrison outlined his theory about cloning. The coroner promised to look into it, bus as Guillot, his voice held little conviction. Half an hour and a sandwich and three cups of coffee later, Mrs Casartelli called back.

“Hello again Signor Harrison. Thanks to your request of only searching the rural areas, I already have a preliminary report ready for you.”

“That’s great. Thank you Signora,” Harrison said, relieved.

“I’m afraid there’s not much of interest, Signor. I’ve found some small family businesses, a bakery here, a farm there, a factory owned by Giorgio Belli in the outskirts of Geneva, a Belli castle in Piedmont, a dairy farm in Valle d’Aosta…”

“ _Wait!_ What did you say? A castle!?” Fast. Eager. Heart pounding. Fingers shaking. He could feel his skin tingle and his stomach flutter, a sensation he knew well. It was his instinct telling him when something was right. When working on cases with little or no leads, his gut feeling would often lead him in the right direction even when there was little evidence to support his intuition. This strong sixth sense of his had the uncanny ability to be dead on and he’d learned the hard way what could happened if he did not listen to it. Now it had awakened at the sound of _Belli castle._

“Yes,” Madame Casartelli said. “But I’m afraid it’s nothing, dear. The castle has been uninhabited for centuries now. No one is sure of its exact location or even if it still stands any more. I had actually forgotten all about this castle myself and _I_ thought I knew all the medieval buildings in the northern part of Italy,” she said with a chuckle.

“What can you tell me about this castle?” Sharp. His gut feeling growing more and more intense.

“It was built in the 11th century and was inhabited by the Belli family for almost four hundred years. They were known to be cruel and ruthless and were feared by the villagers. They saw themselves as great alchemists and were widely known for their search for wealth and eternal life. The last person to inhabit the castle was Aureolus Belli, named after the Occultist Aureolus Philippus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, also known as Paracelsus, a Swiss born alchemist, physician & surgeon, from the 16th century. Aureolus Belli died in 1587 and the castle has been vacant ever since.” The historian took a pause to draw her breath, and then she continued. Harrison didn’t interrupt her once.

“The following centuries, many rumours about Belli castle were floating amongst the villagers and farmers living close the estate. Strange sounds could allegedly be heard emerging from the buildings, shadows were seen lurking behind the walls and when people mysteriously started to vanish at night, people got scared and soon they all moved away.”

Harrison clenched his phone. This was too good to be true. Belli castle was the perfect place. This was it, he knew it. “Signora, you have been most helpful, but could you please do me one more favour and send me all the information you have concerning this Belli castle?”

She agreed to do it right away, he gave her the fax number and with trembling fingers he hung up. Seconds later the fax machine summed to life. He read the content and learned everything there was to know about Belli castle. It wasn’t much. There was nothing about the castle on the internet. He searched the name Belli. It could mean both the plural form of [bello](/wiki/bello) (beautiful) and the genitive of [bellum](/wiki/bellum) ‘war’. C[asus](/wiki/casus) B[elli](/wiki/belli): An [act](/wiki/act) seen as [justifying](/wiki/justifying) or [causing](/wiki/causing) a [war](/wiki/war). Interesting, but irrelevant. He looked up alchemy in an online encyclopaedia. Apparently, the alchemic work field went well beyond the creation of gold. According to the Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition, 1995, **_ALCHEMY_** _. Arabic: al, the, kimiya, chemia. The chemistry of the Middle Ages and the 16th century, a medieval speculative science and philosophy aiming to achieve the transmutation of base metals into gold, the discovery of a universal cure for disease, and a means to indefinitely prolong life._

He thought it weird that he’d never heard of this before. He tried to remember what he’d learned about alchemy in history class. Alchemists had laid much of the standard of modern-day chemistry, had invented a lot of equipment that was still being used in laboratories today and had discovered many of the basic elements now filling up the periodic table. But he had no idea of what the alchemists had actually been doing. He googled Aureoles Belli. Noting. What about Aureolus von Hohenheim? Born Phillip von [Hohenheim](/wiki/Hohenheim) in 1493 in Switzerland, Paracelsus had died 1541 in Austria. He’d been the inventor of Iatrochemistry. About his philosophy it said: _Paracelsus believed in the Greek concept of the[four elements](/wiki/Classical_element%20/%20Classical_elements_in_Greece), but he also introduced the idea that, on another level, the cosmos was fashioned from three spiritual substances: the tria prima of [Mercury](/wiki/Mercury_\(element\)), [Sulfur](/wiki/Sulfur) and [Salt](/wiki/Salt). These substances were not the simple substances we recognise today but were rather broad [principles](/wiki/Principle_\(chemistry\)) that gave every object both its inner essence and outward form. Mercury represented the transformative agent (fusibility and volatility); Sulfur represented the binding agent between substance and transformation (flammability); and Salt represented the solidifying/substantiating agent (fixity and incombustibility). For example, when a piece of wood is burnt, the products reflect its constitution: Smoke reflects Mercury, flame reflects Sulfur, and Ash reflects Salt. The tria prima also defined the human identity. Sulfur embodied the soul, (the emotions and desires); Salt represented the body; Mercury epitomized the spirit (imagination, moral judgment, and the higher mental faculties). By understanding the chemical nature of the tria prima, a physician could discover the means of curing disease._

Fascinating, but why had he been the role model of the Bellis? Were the Bellis still living there? Had they been hiding all these years or was there now a different group occupying the castle. Was this the mysterious family corporation that Ayla Belli’s former professor had been referring to? He had no idea, but somehow, he knew Fiona Belli had been taken to this castle. He called Gretchen Buchard, his superior at Interpol headquarters in Lyon. A woman in her early fifties answered. He wasted no time.

“I might have a fix on whereabouts of the missing girl,” he started.

“Wonderful, agent Harrison.” Professional tone. “Fill me in.”

He told her about what he’d learned so far of the Belli family, the mystery surrounding Ugo Belli, Ayla Bellis mysterious offer and the enigmatic Belli castle. He even included his theory about the misshaped skeleton found in the incinerated car.

“And?” Buchard said coolly.

“And?” Harrison repeated. “Do you really think this is just coincidence? The girl has been brought to this castle by some unknown group of people and something is going on there, I know it,” he insisted.

“Look Harrison, you know I respect you and your judgement but I simply cannot act on this, I cannot call the Italian authorities and order them to stake out or toss a building presumed to be deserted centuries ago, which no one even know for certain exists any more. Moreover, this… _castle_ is practically selected at random. I would come out looking like a fool. You got nothing to support your theory, no evidence, no nothing. It can at best be called circumstantial.” She sounded composed, but her tone had an edge to it, which revealed her annoyance. Harrison squeezed the hood. He knew she was right, but so was he. How could he convince her?

“I know that my theory is a bit thin, but this is the only lead we got. It’s better to take action and risk being wrong than do nothing at all,” he insisted. “Besides, my instinct has yet to fail me.”

“Your lead and your so called ‘instinct’ can might as well be a product of your imagination, agent Harrison. It’s not your ass that’s on the line here. You’ve had a long day and you should get some rest. You may see this differently after a good night’s sleep.” She was being diplomatic, compromising. Harrison hated it. He hated when people didn’t take him seriously.

“By doing nothing we leave this girl to her own faith! _I_ cannot let _that_ happened!” he almost screamed into the phone. He was pushing it, he knew that. But he had learned only all too well what could happen if he ignored his intuition. He already had one life on his conscience, damn if he was to have another.

“Careful now, agent.” She no longer tried to hide her annoyance. “I have reported the girl missing to all Interpol agencies in Europe, and by doing so I have already exceeded my jurisdiction so don’t accuse me of not believing in you, agent. But remember, this is _not_ an officially Interpol investigation. We lend out your expertise as a service to the French authorities and as a favour to the London police. So, unless you can prove that this castle is a secret hidey hole for some terrorist group or the mafia or that the girl is a victim of human trafficking, my hands are tight. Call me tomorrow.” With that, she hung up.

Harrison cursed silently under his breath. When he had used all the English swearwords he could remember at the spur of the moment, he started the same procedure in French. Realizing it wouldn’t help Fiona Belli much, he stopped and headed to Monsieur Rochefort’s office, hoping the superintendent hadn’t left yet. The police chief was just reaching for his jacket as Harrison knocked on the door. He told him what he’d told Buchard and once again, it was like talking to a wall. The chief just laughed at him and shook his head at his crazy theories. They would just have to wait for Dr. Gautier’s report. With that, he went home to his wife.

Back in Guillot’s office, Harrison slammed his hand on the desktop and sent his notebook flying through the room. He held the picture of Fiona in his hands and watched the last rays of sun disappearing under the horizon. How certain was he? Was young Ms. Belli really at this castle. He looked at the picture, then at Casartelli’s prints. Oh yeah, he was sure all right. Was she still unharmed? Was she scared? Did she know about her parents? He pictured the young woman, alone, petrified, grieving over her parents and receiving no consolation. His heart acing for her, he remembered a case in LA. A girl had been reported missing. He found a clue leading to San Diego. Circumstantial, but his strong sixth sense had screamed at him to persuade it. The lead was ruled out to be a false alarm, and Harrison had been ordered to not follow it up. He had obeyed, every fibre in him screaming the opposite. Three days later the girl was found dead. She had been sixteen. The murderer had been caught and convicted and Harrison had been told that he’d helped to save the lives of many young girls. It hadn’t felt that way. It was later turned out that the lead had been legitimate and if followed up, the girl would have been found alive. Harrison took it crushingly hard, still to this day he felt responsible for this girl’s death. Fiona Belli smiled at him from the photo. Only eighteen years old, her whole life on front of her. This is not going to happened again, _this is not happening again…_ If no one else would save the girl, _he_ would. But he couldn’t do it alone, who knew what would meet him behind the walls of Belli castle. He had no experience with this kind of situations, but he knew someone who had. He picked up his phone and dialled a well-known number. It was answered after only one ring.

“Hey Eddie,” an American voice said, knowing that Harrison hated to be called Eddie.

“You still in Paris?” Harrison asked, not remarking the use of his middle name.

“Yeah. Got off duty tonight. I’m leaving for the States first thing tomorrow. What’s up, John? You got problems?”

“Well, it’s this case I’m working on. Could you do me a major favour and push back your flight a few days? I really need your help here, mate.” It was silent for a few seconds. When Harrison was about to say something, the voice answered.

“What’s the case about?” His hoarse voice made him sound older that his actual age.

“A married couple has been murdered, incinerated in the car they were driving. And their teenage daughter is missing.”

“That the case that’s been on the news all day? So they’ve finally confirmed the identity?”

“Yes, but one of the corpses… that one is a mystery. And the girl, Fiona Belli has been kidnapped. I know where she is, but as usual, no one listens.” He gave some more information about the case, the missing data in Ugo and Ayla Belli’s folders and his theories about the castle.

“You sure about this?” the voice said. “You’re one hundred per cent positive they’ve taken the girl to this castle?”

Harrison drew in a breath. “Yes, I’m sure. I’d never ask you like this otherwise. The girl…”

“Hey, it’s enough for me. I can change my ticket to Marseille or some other place nearby and rent a car from there. I’ll be there around nine. Sounds good?”

“Great.” Harrison felt relieved. “I’ll inform the night shift that you’ll be coming. Thanks again, mate. I have no idea what I’m diving into here, but you have pretty good experience with this kind of shit, you know, girls kidnapped by an unidentified group located in a remote place.”

“Sure do. See you in two.”

In a hotel in Paris, Leon S. Kennedy threw his bag over his shoulder and headed out the door.


	18. The End of the Maid From Hell

The crypt wasn’t as bad as Fiona had feared. She and Hewie entered an area of roughly 12x16 ft. A golem stood stalwart in the southwest corner, facing east. Arms, shoulders and legs of soil were protruding from the walls as fragments of unfinished golems. A corpse was lying on a centre placed altar, clutching a stone tablet in a death grip. The only source of light was a candle burning next to the skull, its flickering flame casting ghostlike shadows on the earth walls, dancing amongst protruding limbs. It was quiet, but not the eerie silence one might’ve expected. Despite the dim light and the dead body on the altar, the tomb felt calm and peaceful.

There were two paths leading further into the crypt, though the one leading south was blocked by thick iron bars and was therefore inaccessible. Hewie had already entered the other passage, sniffing his way eastward. Fiona followed her canine friend, his white fur a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding them. The underground catacomb was supported by stone pillars set at certain intervals, and a few sparsely placed torches provided enough illumination for Fiona to notice the bones lying spread on the ground and the numerus corpses laid to rest inside recesses dug into the walls. Still, Fiona was cool and composed. She’d entered a sacred ground, and no one could hurt her down here. She could finally relax and breathe freely for a moment. “It is the living you have to fear, not the dead,” she reminded herself. One exception being the former inhabitants of Raccoon City, Springfield, Illinois, remembering an incident that had been all over the news a few years ago.

After turning right four times, Fiona found herself on the other side of the iron bars, peering into the tomb’s entrance. She climbed a staircase to her right and entered a small patch of grass cut off from the rest of the graveyard. A furnace was burning a bright red, its chimney emitting a dreadful smell of burnt meat that made both Fiona and Hewie keep their distance. _Someone must be burning an animal carcass,_ Fiona though. Then suddenly, a loud screech cut through the air. It did not belong to the maid, nor was it the ear-piercing shriek of the Mandragora. It came from… the oven! Something was moving inside it. As she was staring into the blazing flames, the dreadful truth hit her. What looked like a human baby was being cooked alive! She felt like throwing up. _Surely it wasn’t a child in there! Certainly, such nonsense only happens in horror novels and such._ She ran back to the crypt. Things like that don’t actually ever happen in the real world, not even in this absurd place would something so sick as babies being boiled alive ever happen, she told herself over and over not really believing it. Distressed by the horror that she’d just witnessed, she ran through the catacombs at random until reaching an iron door. She opened it and walked through a glass tunnel within an aquarium. Schools of strange fish were gliding through the dark blue water. Some looked prehistoric, while others were like straight out of a science fiction movie. On the other side, she ascended a sparsely lit staircase with pipes protruding out of the walls and ceiling. She entered a huge area filled with books. Packed shelves lined the walls, and several bookcases filled with old documents and manuscripts took up most of the floor space. The partition meant to separate the first and second floor was lacking, and Fiona could see more book-filled shelves and a narrow catwalk at the upper level.

The same five authors, Agrippa, Framel, Sangerman, Paracelsus and Furkanelli had written most of the books in the library. Fiona moved along the shelves, tracing the volumes with her index, recognising only a few of the titles. One of the most interesting was _Cathedral Secrets_ , published in 1922 by the French master alchemist Furkanelli. It spoke of the archaic alchemistic symbols lining the walls of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Another fascinating title was _Wiseman’s Craft_ by Nicolas Framel. The volume was filled with allegorical hieroglyphs and accompanying explanations. Fiona also recognised the title _Occult Philosophy_ by the mysterious figure Agrippa, a black book that had been published in 1533, discussing the secret techniques of Alchemy. These three men had always been surrounded by myths and mysteries, but the most famous and enigmatic was Nicolas Framel. The French writer had allegedly been the eighth Grand Master of the Priory of Sion, and he had supposedly been the most talented European alchemist of all times. It’s said that he succeeded at the two magical goals of alchemy; making the Philosopher's Stone, which turns lead into gold, and achieving immortality along with his wife, Perenelle. Framel has been mentioned in popular works of fiction like Harry Potter and Indiana Jones as well as The DaVinci Code. Fiona had visited his old house, which was now a restaurant, and she’d seen his tombstone in the Musée de Cluny, both in Paris.

Atop one of the bookcases lining the north wall was a door. Fiona didn’t even bother to try to fathom why anyone would even think the thought of building a door of all things in such a nonsensical location, but she did observe that all the bookcases were placed adjacent to one another forming a trail, which conveniently ended at the door. And lo and behold, there was even a ladder attached to the bookcase that started the line. Hewie had settled on the floor next to a grandfather’s clock, its metal hands slowly ticking their way through the night. Fiona climbed the ladder, balanced her way to the north wall, opened the door and stepped into a small room. The air was heavy and filled with dust. Like so many of the rooms in the Belli estate, books were lining the walls. But here the manuscripts were discoloured from years of disuse. A majority of the literature appeared to be old parchment scrolls. Fiona could feel a budding headache rising from a spot behind her eyes. No wonder, this area had probably not seen fresh air in decades. Lifeless mannequins had been placed in front of the packed shelves and scattered mannequin parts had been tossed into a corner. In the middle of the room was a small, round table and a chair. On the chair lay a mannequin’s arm, and on the table stood an old projector. An exposed film was lying next to it, and an eggshell white screen covered the north wall. Fiona wondered what was on it and if the projector was still working. Curiosity won over cautiousness; she put the film in place and turned on the apparatus. It summed and blinked to life and the film started to run. Fiona’s chin dropped in horror and disbelief. She’d expected the worst, but nothing could have prepared her for the images now flickering over the screen. She saw herself, hanging lifelessly over the giant’s shoulder, covered only by the white sheet. She recognised the huge, well kempt tree; the one Hewie had been tied to earlier. She’d been filmed getting dressing in the castle’s suite, in the chapel reaching for the Saturnus key and finally she saw herself walking slowly through one of the hallways in the mansion, looking anxiously from side to side. The mummy hallway to be exact. The screen went black for a short moment, and then Riccardo and the maid appeared. They were in an area Fiona didn’t recognize. Riccardo walked up to a set of three dice-shaped blocks placed on top of one another. He rotated the highest and the lowest ones, turned to the maid, pointed his finger at her and said something. The maid folded her hands and bowed. The camera zoomed in on the blocks and the symbols engraved on them became clearly visible. The image held for a couple of seconds, and then the screen went grey.

Fiona stared at the now blank screen. Her eyes had been transfixed on the film, and she hadn’t even been blinking. She turned her face away, appalled and horrified.

“I was being filmed,” she whispered to herself. Her mind was trying to process what she’d just seen, but at the same time, probably because of everything that had happened these last hours, her consciousness was mentally blocking the horrendous images. Exasperated, her mind was in denial, inaccessible for the time being. And it was only going to get worse.

The sudden sound of fabric being torn made Fiona turn back to the screen. A gash now travelled transverse the screen. “Who’s there?” she uttered, still in shock. Her blood froze to ice when she heard steps behind the cloth, and ice-cold fear spread from her chest as the maid appeared.

Her face was empty and motionless, not unlike the lifeless mannequins. She swung the glass sword at Fiona, missing only by half an inch. The terrified young girl covered her face, hollered in fear and quickly back stepped. The maid kept swinging her weapon, and Fiona kept backing until she stumbled into the wall. Fiona both heard and felt the dangerously sharp glass flying past her face. It was truly a miracle that it missed. Daniella’s lips curled into a grin as she watched the horror in the young girl’s eyes. She noticed Fiona looking towards the exit and quickly stepped up to block the open doorway. So did Fiona but unfortunately for her, the maid won the race. Fiona bumped into the chair, which caused her to jump. She stood in the middle of the room, shaking, heart pounding, the insane maid blocking the only way out. The cold and emotionless Daniella held Fiona’s gaze while calculating her next fatal strike towards the helpless and petrified young girl.

“Why are you after me?” Fiona blurted out, not really expecting an answer. It was just meant as an effort to gain some time to think. “What do you want?” she continued.

“Azoth.” Daniella said. As usual, her voice did not convey any hint of feelings.

“Azoth?” Fiona repeated, perplexed, bewildered.

“Azoth. The essence of life, of life, of wo… wo… Woman… WOMAN!” the maid shrieked. Then her head started to shake uncontrollably, and an insane, high-pitch laughter erupted from her throat. Eyelids twitching and body spasming, she lunged her arm towards Fiona, the whoosh from the glass pierced the air. Both Fiona and Daniella fell forward; the maid was thrown into the room and Fiona to the doorway. Noticing the opening ahead, Fiona was quickly on her feet, darted through the opening and spurted across the bookcases. The bookcases were shaking, threatening to fall at any moment but Fiona didn’t care. Half way through the trail, she fell to the floor. Her right leg felt strange, but she didn’t stop to check. Instead she rose, hurried out the library and down the steps, stumbling and tripping down the steep staircase. Hewie was yapping and barking behind her. She raced into the crypt so fast she banged her head against the wall. Stumbling through the dark, underground hallways, she realised the maid was no longer following her. Moreover, she was bleeding heavily from her right thigh. The shard had cut deep into her skin above the knee and blood was pouring out of the gap. Her right boot was already covered in crimson red. She stopped and put as much pressure on the cut as she could. Hewie tilted his head and examined the wound with a worried look in his eyes. She had to do something to stop the bleeding. Pressing hard on the gaping wound, she limped through the catacombs to another exit, this one leading to a long staircase sick-sacking its way up to the second floor of the mansion’s west wing. The area reminded her of those _everything-is-upside-down-and-meant-to-totally-confuse-you_ attractions in amusement parks. However, she did not find this area amusing at all, and, judging by his tense body, neither did Hewie. False doors had been built into the walls, some were upside-down, and others were horizontal. Chandeliers and armours were held into place by rusty iron chains. She peered into the darkness below and saw more pipes. Behind her, she heard chanting and humming. She didn’t dare to look and quickened her pace. There was no handrail to use as support, so Fiona clung to the wall to her left, leaving a trace of crimson fingerprints behind her. After what felt like a zillion steps, she finally reached the door into the building.

With the same muddy black-and-white floor, the same red windows and the bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, the atmosphere in this branch of the manor was just as eerie as the one she’d just traversed through. To her right was yet another long, descending staircase with no supporting banister.

“I’d better find something to plaster the wound on my leg before going downstairs,” she mumbled to Hewie and headed up a much smaller staircase, through a wooden door to her left. She passed a poster of the human nervous system, a metal cabinet and a curtain, and walked in to what looked like a hospital room. The dirty and unsanitary operating bed in the middle and the blending light overhead would normally have made Fiona quiver, but now this place was exactly what she needed. She found a towel and a disinfectant and cleaned the wound the best she could. The antiseptic burned the exposed flesh and tears protruded from her closed eyelids, but at least the bleeding had stopped. For now. The smallest bit of trauma could re-open it again. She needed to heal but there were no healing items to be found and the nearest alchemy room she knew of was in the east section. It would be too risky to backtrack. She left the blood-soaked towels in the sink, washed the blood of her hands and leg and covered the crimson red gap with the biggest compress she could find.

Looking around, she reckoned the equipment was relatively modern compared to the other stuff in the castle. Still thought, she’d never seen most of it. A glowing monitor to the left of the sink held what looked like MRI images. Two were of a foetus seen from both left and right and the other two were of a full-grown adult. A rack had been placed on the other side of the sink, holding three white plastic containers, the type used to store large amount of chemicals for industrial use. Fiona noted the word ethanol written on one of the labels. Next to the rack were two cylinders that contained some sort of gas under high pressure.

“These aren’t going to explode, are they?”

Fiona backed and bumped into the dirty bench. “No matter how serious the illness, you couldn’t get me to lie down on that for even five seconds,” she informed her canine companion in a resolute tone. She checked the cabinets, hoping they could serve as a hiding spot if in a pinch.

“Dangit it, Hewie. It’s locked, and I don’t think I’ll be able to open it.”

They probably contained important chemicals or medicine. However, several bottles filled with toxic and corrosive chemicals had been left out on different shelves. She examined a contraption that looked like it was used for measuring things. _What kind of research was going on in here?_ Then again, she’d done what she’d come in for. There was no need to be in here anymore. She left the unsanitary OR, and accompanied by Hewie, she headed south, then east and went down to the first floor.

The ground floor had the same chessboard pattern and flaming red windows. Hewie didn’t care for this area. His body was taut and his muscles rigid. They both heard a faint mumbling further down the hall. A couple of minutes later, they came across the source of the muffled voice. A naked creature was looking at a weird sculpture on display in the corridor, scratching its chin and speaking nonsense. He paid no attention to Fiona or her canine friend. The man, or whatever it was, seemed non-threatening, however, Fiona had learned not to trust anything, or anyone, in this place. She was just as alert as Hewie was. Green plants, masks, vases and stuffed animals were also displayed on sockets.

“Why are they trying to hide everything away?” Fiona pondered, studying another sheet-covered statue in the middle of the corridor. They quickly left the area, heading further into the gloom until stopped by a locked door. A wooden table stood along the south wall with a single candle on top, its flame flickering in the surrounding darkness. An enormous cage took up the north wall. _What in the world could they have been keeping in there?_ Did she want to know? And who were “ _they”_ anyway?

A locked door forced the duo to backtrack. They hurried past the mumbling creature and headed up to the second floor. Her leg didn’t hurt that much, but she thought it best to take it slow for the next hour or so. If the castle would let her. She passed the OR to her left and headed northeast through a red-lit passage and paused in a small, rotund area that most certainly had been used to carry out experiments. Books pertaining complex formulae that went far beyond Fiona’s comprehension lay on a table to her right, and in the northeast corner stood a peculiar, round device with a hole in the centre. She read the strange inscription.

_Synthesizer. By separating the platinum half-piece and then synthesizing it with the sacred white, a new spiritually infused substance is born. The path you are waling is ever so dangerous. However, if you do not want the sacred white to be fouled by blood, then you should give up the grand process here._

With breasts and all, it had been made to resemble a metal version of an African fertility goddess. Fiona however, thought it looked like the type of instruments used by mad scientists in horror movies. The weird apparatus and the spooky surroundings were, in fact, as taken out of a horror movie. _God, how I miss home,_ Fiona thought with a shiver. The sudden sound of Hewie’s growling and the echo of footsteps made her tremble even more. Fiona heard a female voice saying her name and before long, the maid appeared.

 _Oh no, not again!_ She went ice-cold. Hewie lowered his head, his muscles tightened, and his lips curled upwards as he snarled at the housekeeper. Daniella ignored the canine. Her full attention was on the horror-struck girl in front of her. She made a hissing sound and raised the shard. Fiona’s knees were about to give in. She was tired, hurt and confused, and now she had to fight for her life _again_. Would there be no end to this living hell? Hewie, who stunned Daniella by jumping up and biting her back, saved her yet again. The maid stumbled backwards, and Fiona hurried through the glowing hallway. When she saw the door leading into the OR, an image flashed before her eyes. On one of the shelves, hadn’t she seen a…? She hurried inside and grabbed a dark brown bottle from a shelf. The maid was on her heels, so there was no time to check the label. She prayed she’d grabbed the right one. The insane woman entered and circled the operating table. Fiona was breathing heavily. Tiny droplets of sweat were beginning to form on her forehead. _If this fails…_

In a swift motion, she hurled the bottle at the maid. The glass broke on impact and the colourless fluid spilled over her face and clothes. Due to its highly corrosive properties, the sulphuric acid immediately started to oxidize her skin. Daniella stared dumbfounded at her hand as it started to boil, and then she fell to the floor. Fiona wasted no time. She quickly dashed out of the room and back to Hewie.

“Come on, boy. We have to hurry.”

Together they headed eastward through a torch lit passage. To the north, cages were hidden in the darkness behind solid iron bars. After a couple of minutes, they reached a locked door and a dial connected to what looked like a water tap. Fiona recognised the pipes and cubes from the film reel. She had a fairly decent photographic memory and turned the highest and lowest cube until the correct assembly of symbols were shown. She could hear water flowing, and soon after, the door was unlocked. The assembly of pipes and tubes were coated with decades-old rust. Someone had obviously put a lot of time and energy into building all this, but why? Higher up she could see where she’d entered the mansion two hours earlier. Holes in the wall near the floor with grating over them had drained away most of the water so the bottom floor was now clearly visible. At the end of the narrow spiral staircase was a locked door with the symbol of masculinity, or Mars, engraved. Yet another key she had to find.

“This is getting rather tiresome, Hewie” she sighted as she hurried upstairs to search for the key.

Early on, Fiona had learned to trust Hewie to alert her of dangers ahead. Therefore, she was extremely wary of his body language. The second she entered the top floor, she knew something was amiss. The way Hewie’s hair was standing on edge was not a good sign. Fiona could tell from the cool and fresh air that they were partially outside. They were surrounded by armed sculptures on both sides. Two of the warriors were holding up their spears at an angle of 45° and the weapons crossed in mid-air. Except for a few yards on both ends, there was a pattern of crimson and ebony hexagonal tiles like no other she’d seen in the mansion. At the end of this pattern of black and red, an armour holding a bow in its left hand was guarding a door. Fiona though it wise to send Hewie to scout ahead.

“Go Hewie,” she ordered and followed closely as the German shepherd started to cross the stone plates. First, in a straight line, then the dog took a sharp turn left before going all the way to the right, his snout never leaving the floor. But Fiona’s eyes left Hewie. Just for a second, to gaze outwards, trying to see signs of people living nearby, like lights or a building but saw nothing. When she returned her attention to Hewie, the Alsatian had already made it to the other side, furiously barking, as if ordering her to get to safety. She didn’t like this, not one bit. She lifted her foot, stepped down on a dark tile and heard a clunking sound of metal shifting as the armour lifted its bow.

Strike one.

Fiona swallowed, her skin started to get all cold and clammy. Hewie’s barking grew more intense. The frightened dog was running back and forth between the armour and the door. She tried the next tile. Nothing happened. Then another. Still nothing. On the third try, another click and the armour charged its bow ready to fire.

Strike two.

She could feel sweat running down her temple. Her heart was pounding so hard it threatened to burst through her chest. Hewie’s intense barking grew more and more frantic. She only had two more tiles to cross. Staring at the arrow, she slowly lifted a shaky leg.

Strike three.

The moment the sole of her boot hit the floor she knew she had stepped on the wrong tile. The arrow went flying past her at fatal velocity, missing by only an inch. It swept across the hall and disappeared through the open doorway. A faint, clinging sound of metal hitting stone could be heard as the arrow hit one of the pillars supporting the spiral staircase outside and ended its flight on the floor. Fiona staggered to her feet and stumbled up to Hewie. Bending down, she embraced the dog, sobbing and gasping for air. She shivered when she thought of how close the arrow had swept by her. Pure reflex had saved her from a deadly hit. If she’d been standing just a little bit to the right, she would not have been alive now. Happy that she was safe, the canine wagged his tale and licked her face to comfort her.

“Thank you, boy,” she whispered in his ear, stood up and pressed a button on the back of the armour to deactivate the booby trap. Probably unnecessary now as the bow was uncharged, but better to be safe than sorry. She opened the massive wooden door behind the armour and entered a section of the manor that was separated from the main building. She peered over the railing and shivered at the sight of blood on the floor below. Her blood. Lots of it. From when the maid had attacked her in the library earlier. The hairs in her neck rose. She touched the compress on her tight. Blood-spattered books lay strewn where she’d fallen. She walked left, past shelves and a grandfather clock, and went through another door made of solid, massive wood. She crossed the chessboard entry and went up a staircase clinging to the wall, to an area with huge windows and a glass dome in the ceiling.

Fiona stared at the moon through the transparent ceiling, wondering if she would ever find a way out. Wondering if this was the last night she’d see the stars. Wondering if she’d be alive or dead when the sun rose. Hewie sat down next to her, looking up in her direction. She was standing on a spherical glass plate surrounded by four blocks. Each block had a different coloured half-spherical half-orb on top. It appeared that the blocks were movable. Fiona remembered similar blocks she’d moved earlier, revealing a secret staircase. She wondered what’d happen if she were to move these blocks along their defined paths. She intended to find out. These ones however, were much heavier than the ones in the castle. She grunted and sweated as she pushed them, one by one, into their proper place. For each block that was pushed into place, crystals under the glass plate turned slightly upward, reflecting the moonlight. When Fiona had finished, the plate was shining brightly, and Fiona could clearly see her reflection. The cubicles opened and inside the red one lay a key. The green, yellow and blue ones held antimonies. Fiona was about to pick up the Mars key when she noticed Hewie’s behaviour. He was tripping back and forth, alternating between panting and barking. Fiona gasped in disbelief as she heard familiar footsteps echoing through the room. Fiona’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of the insane maid stepping up from the staircase, heading in her direction. Her skin had already healed from being sprinkled with acid.

 _What_! _Not even the sulphuric acid had been enough to stop her!? What is she, the maid from hell?_ Fiona’s eyes frantically searched for an escape. As she was walking towards Fiona, the maid was laughing hysterically, her head violently shaking, emitting eerie, non-human sounds. She came to a halt three feet from the terrified Fiona, hissed and lifted the glass sword high above the petrified girl’s head. Her whole body in spasms, she resumed her maniac, hysterical laughter. The woman was truly mentally instable, not to mention highly dangerous. Fiona was too terrified to move. Hewie on the other hand, was not. He leaped forward to bite Daniella’s wrist. The attack made her lose her balance and soon she was lying on the floor, curling and twitching to pry lose her hand. Her laughter was growing more hysterical. The dog held the crazy woman’s hand between his jaws in a firm grip.

“Hewie!” Fiona exclaimed.

The dog let go and walked up to Fiona. The maid stopped moving for a short moment, but before long, she rapidly turned her head, smirking at her objective. The expression in Daniella’s eyes made the young woman freeze. She rose with a horrible, shrieking laughter, and then she spoke.

“Blood. Flesh. Woman. You vile creature,” she hissed, circling Fiona, her voice growing more intense.

“You lure the man into your filthy body again and _again._ And you are allowed to do that because you are a precious, precious little princess.”

She stepped closer and closer to the petrified Fiona. Her pulse was racing in her ears together with the maid’s insane words and hysterical laughter. She was near fainting.

“Precious… Precious little princess.”

Daniella backed, her laughter now reduced to shrieks as she lifted the glass to her mouth, caressing the sharp edge with her tongue. Tears of blood started streaming from her eyes and down her face. Fiona backed and stepped over the radiating glass plate. The maid’s only weakness that Fiona was aware of. Her own reflection. If she managed to distract the maid by luring her to step on the shining glass plate, she would gain enough time to grab the key and escape. She backed and the maid followed. It worked. A little too well. When Daniella stepped on the bright glass, she looked down and let out an ear-rupturing shriek higher than any Mandragora could master. Fiona covered her ears and cringed. She could only imagine how Hewie must be feeling. The maid was screaming with her entire body, the kind of screech that pierced through flesh and bone, a scream that could wake the dead and make glass shatter. Like the glass dome above Daniella’s head.

Fiona lifted her head at the sound of glass breaking and saw the maid in the middle of the rain of broken glass. Her body was slowly spinning, and she was smiling from ear to ear, ignoring Fiona and Hewie. Bigger and bigger pieces started to fall, cutting deeper and deeper into the maid’s flesh on their way to the floor, but Daniella took no notice. She stretched her arms high above her head and imagined she was dancing among the stars. Then the inevitable happened. A huge piece loosened and pierced through Daniella’s chest, puncturing her heart and lungs and severing her spine in half. Not even her artificially created high metabolism and effective tissue regeneration could save her life now. Deadly wounded, she let out a holler of shock and then her body bent backwards a bit before coming to rest, pinned to the floor by an enormous piece of glass from the broken dome. Smilingly, she watched small pieces of glass falling from the sky, blinking kindly in the moonlight, like snowflakes. It was the most beautiful sight Daniella had ever seen. She could feel something inside her, and she could feel her heart slowing down. In her last moments, Daniella knew she would never be complete, but she also knew that her endless days of hollow emptiness and self-loathing had come to an end. In her last seconds before dying, Daniella felt nothing but true happiness.


	19. Enter The Sly Hunter

Wide-eyed, jaw gaping and with legs gridlocked in shock, Fiona couldn’t stop staring at the lifeless maid, whose body was impaled by a large piece of glass like an unlucky voodoo doll. With arms stretched out and her eyes half open, she looked like a big doll. Fiona couldn’t believe things had gotten this out of hand. A miasma of emotions stirred inside her. She was horrified over the gruesome scene she’d just witnessed, sick to her stomach because she knew she was partially to blame, and relieved that the maid could not hurt her anymore. However, this was not what she’d wished for. She’d never meant for anyone to get hurt.

“I hate this place, I really do!” she cried out in anger and frustration, clenching her fingers into a tight fist. Her nails bore into her skin, leaving marks in the palms of her hands. She had to get out. Her legs willing to move again, she hurried towards the exit, but Hewie’s barking stopped her. She had forgotten the Mars key. Walking back to pick up the iron-forged key and the antimony, she couldn’t help but notice the woman’s face. When she’d been alive, it had always been ice-cold and aloof, completely devoid of emotion. But now she was happily smiling from ear to ear. Before going completely mad, she’d told Fiona she was unable to experience pleasure or pain. Perhaps the worst pain is not being able to feel any pain at all? Maybe this woman had been as much of a victim of this insane place as she was.

She used the Mars key to unlock the iron door downstairs and slammed it shut behind her, breaking her initial rule of always keeping the doors open. After leaving the dome, she’d closed every door to put as much distance as possible between her and the lifeless maid. She sank down on the cold stone tiles. Hewie could not offer any words of consolation, but he did what he could to offer solace and show his loyalty. He licked Fiona’s hand, making whimpering sounds of worry and concern. Fiona suddenly realised that in her hurry to move on, she hadn’t called for him once and still, the dog had never left her side. The Alsatian was no longer staying with her just to offer protection and company, he’d bonded with her. She patted his fur and whispered soft words in his ear. They spent a couple of minutes sitting on the floor, then Fiona rose. Time to move on. Hewie had already noticed a gap in the wall. A miasma of mould and corrosion wafted from the opening. She knew what this was. She crawled through the opening, into another secret alchemy room where she used the Variatio Machina and medallions to make antimony tubes and magnesias that she put into a small bag of leather, which she tied around her waist. She also made healing items for herself and Hewie. The Quies wouldn’t be enough to heal her injured leg, but it would remove most of the pain. Hewie seemed happy with the Esca.

In the corner of her eye, Fiona noticed movement on the other side of an iron-forged barrier, fatty and gross, like a lump of meat. Before long, the lump came rushing from behind the fence, and clung to Fiona’s legs, screeching. Fiona covered her ears and cringed at the high-pitch noise. The canine attacked the creature and it dissolved in a haze of red smoke. Fiona shook of the unpleasant experience. She’d heard enough screaming to last her a lifetime. They crossed an arched doorway and entered a two-way chessboard-floored lobby. Another one of those mumbling creatures stood adjacent to the opening. Naked. _What were those things?_ Fiona walked straight past it and examined a small table holding three cubes with a scale, a globe and a microscope. Pink flowers decorated the end of the corridor.

“A balance in a corridor? Just one more strange happening that I don’t even want to try to guess at,” Fiona mumbled as she passed another one of those ruby red windows with ivory wrought iron spreading over the flaming cranberry-coloured glass, creating a mosaic pattern.

She opened a door leading west. A big cylinder with glass windows filled most of the space on the other side. When she noticed the creature floating in the bile-coloured solution inside, her hand flew to her mouth. She’d come to think of herself as immune to the castle’s many disturbing elements by now, but nothing could have prepared her for _this._ She gasped in shock and revulsion. The horrendous sight in front of her was far worse than any blood coated wall, dead body or disturbing painting. Inside the incubator was an adult, naked female, head down in a foetal position.

“Dear God, if I get caught now, I’m sure they will kill me,” flashed through her head. She didn’t notice the shadow behind her before it was too late. She sensed Hewie’s uneasiness, but thought it was because of the chanting creatures in the hallway outside. Then she heard footsteps. Not the low and hasty tripping of the maid, but quiet, shuffled steps of a man sneaking up behind her.

“Miss Fiona,” a deep voice spoke behind her, startling her even more. She knew this voice. Turning her head, she saw Riccardo smirking in the doorway.

“Now if you would please come with me…” He stepped towards the young woman, who responded by backing away, rounding the incubator.

“No, I don’t want to,” Fiona said, her voice trembling. “Please let me be, I want to go home,” she begged.

“But Miss Fiona, you _are_ home,” Riccardo replied. “This whole castle is all yours.” He kept approaching her, and Fiona kept backing until she bumped into a tube that was going out of the incubator. Riccardo had her cornered.

“So, Miss Fiona does not wish to stay at her castle?” He raised his arm, and a second later Fiona was staring into the barrel of a gun.

Once again, she had to run for her life, and this time from an armed madman. She’d thought the worst part to be over, but as it turned out, it had only begun. Her legs moved automatically, taking her away from Riccardo, around a corner and out to an area that was somewhat familiar. Fiona heard Riccardo call her ‘a miserable wench’ before closing the door behind her.

“Now even that Riccardo tells me I should stay in the castle,” she thought. “But I’m not stupid. I know the longer I stay here, the greater my chances are of getting killed.”

Several pipes were attached to the ceiling above. She started following the pipeline, just like Dr. Ellie Sattler had done in Jurassic Park when trying to re-boost the park’s electric system while avoiding the predatory raptors. She heard the humming of yet another one of those naked creatures. This one was moving his body back and forth, holding its face in its hands. The staircase to her right was the very same she’d climbed when exiting the catacombs. _That_ ’s why the area seemed so familiar. She heard the door opening behind her. _Riccardo._ He fired his gun in the air, making Fiona scream in fear and terror for the one-hundred-and-ninety-three time tonight. More gunshots echoed through the hall, making Fiona run faster. She darted straight into a door at full speed, knocking it open in the process. She spurted through the hallway, running faster than ever before, patches of black and white dancing in front of her. Lactate was starting to accumulate in her muscles, and she could already taste the lactic acid in her mouth. Somewhere behind her, Riccardo roared. Hewie must’ve attacked him while he reloaded his gun. The image of Hewie and a pistol-carrying hooded man flashed before Fiona. _Oh, no. Hewie! Please let Hewie be all right._ She bounced into another door; however, this one didn’t budge. Her fingers struck something hard. The key had been left in the lock. She rapidly turned it around, pushed the door open and hasted through. Another shot echoed behind her, followed by intense barking. Fiona screamed and fell to the floor. She crawled against the wall, bent her knees to her chest, and hid her head in the gap between her kneecaps. A stabbing pain under her ribcage prevented her from running any further. Her whole body was trembling, and she could taste her own blood.

_Hewie!_

What had happened to Hewie? The footsteps came closer, and then they started to faint away until finally disappearing completely. A minute later, Fiona realised she’d crawled under a table and that Riccardo had walked straight past her.

Shock-ridden and quivering, she crawled out of her hiding spot on shaky legs. She saw the cage in front of her and immediately recognised the area. Her muscles screamed for oxygen and she sucked in large portions of air, drawing it deep into her lungs. Hewie walked through the doorway, his dog eyes gazing worriedly up at the young woman. Relief surged through Fiona when she realised he was unharmed. She bent down and gave the canine a thigh hug, and then they continued their search for an exit. Except for curving slightly to the left, this corridor looked no different than the countless others. As they were heading back to where she’d been cornered by Riccardo, her muscles were slowly returning to their normal state, and the stitch in her side was starting to fade away. A strange device similar to the one she’d seen upstairs caught her eye. It too, had a hole in the middle, but this one was called an extractor. She read the inscription.

_Born from the swirling sands of chaos, the primordial element, Prima Materia, begins to decay and, before long changes into the yellow demon. For those seeking the next evolutionary step, stay not from the road of purification._

“An Extractor?” Fiona mused. “I know this sound stupid, but maybe it is to extract things?” She turned her head slightly to the right. “I’ll just push the idea that they’re using it to extract something from that woman in that capsule out of my head for now.” The capsule, or incubator was attached to a large and complex device by pipes and wires. Fiona wondered if it was responsible for transporting nutrients over to the capsule. But what was all this about? What were they going to do to the woman in the capsule? And what were they going to do to _her_?

“It’s a homonculus, an artificially created woman,” a voice said behind her. “ _I_ have created her and many others. Perchance you have already encountered one or two when sneaking around in places where you shouldn’t be.”

Fiona held her breath as she turned to Riccardo. His gun pointing upward to the ceiling, the cunning man smirked deviously at the terrified young child.

“They are, however, worthless,” he continued. “They have no intelligence, no soul, and most can’t speak.” Step by step, he closed in on her, ignoring the dog sneering at him. With watchful eyes and his muscles taut, Hewie was waiting for his chance. Standing no more than two feet from Fiona, Riccardo lifted his hand to her face.

“They don’t have… what you have,” he said in a soft tone and stretched out his fingers to stroke her chin.

“No!” Fiona gasped and pushed away his hand. “Don’t…”

Riccardo sighted. “Looks like I’ve got no choice,” he muttered and lifted his gun to her chest. Fiona stumbled back, landing on her back as Hewie lunged towards the armed man. Fiona managed to pull herself up and escape through the doorway on the other side. She heard Riccardo yell at Hewie followed by the sound of a dog’s whimper. Fiona screamed out in fear of Hewie’s and her own safety. She hasted up a stair and through a narrow and scruffy hallway darker than the other passages. She was continually stumbling on wobbly rocks. It was as if the whole corridor was falling apart. She ran straight through rotten wood, hit a table and fell to the floor together with the items that had been on top of the table. Riccardo fired his gun, a roaring sound echoed through the dark space. She felt a sting of pain in her injured thigh.

“You wench!” she heard Riccardo shout from the entrance. “You were given the greatest gift of all and you don’t even appreciate it. I can’t believe the Azoth was wasted on you.”

A glass vial filled with red liquid caught her eye. _Fortis!_ That would completely heal her injured leg as well as temporarily making her body stronger and more resilient to damage. She removed the lid and downed the content. The reaction was immediate. This… was not Fortis. _This_ tasted… different. She could hardly see, her heart was racing as it had never done before, and she started hyperventilating. She could hear Hewie barking, but the sound was so faint and muffled, like he was far away or behind a wall. Lying flat on her back, cold sweating and pulse racing, Riccardo’s voice grew closer and closer.

“There’s nowhere to run, Fiona. It’s over.” Paralysed by panic and fear, these words echoed inside her head over and over. _It’s over. He’s coming. It’s over._

Fiona heard a thunderous noise followed by a loud scream, and then dead silence. After five minutes, her heartbeat was no longer racing and even though her pulse was still high, she was no longer panicking. She exhaled in relief. For a moment there, she thought she had a heart attack. In full control of body and mind again, she sat up and looked at the mess around her. Shoddy-looking research equipment had fallen off the tables and now laid spread on the floor. She’d seen similar equipment elsewhere. Looking almost archaic in nature, the gear was nevertheless exceptionally well preserved. The same could not be said for the room. It looked several hundred years older than the rest of the place, though Fiona suspected it was not. Another one of those weird African Goddess-like contraptions stood in a dark corner, and there was a big, round gap in the floor close to the entrance. She peeked over the edge and saw Riccardo lying unconscious on the floor below surrounded by piles of stone. She rapidly backed away and her foot accidentally kicked the empty cylinder. She it up and read the label. She hadn’t been drinking Fortis but Remedium, a brewery that boosts your stamina at the cost of increasing stress level. Agitated and terrified, she had picked the wrong bottle.

A hand-written note on the floor caught her eye. The words had been jotted down in a hurry. The memo was written in English, and though the handwriting was different from the ones given to her by Lorenzo, there was still something familiar about it.

_That foul beast of a dog! The damned beast ran off with the Prima Materia I was refining in the decomposer. I’d spent countless hours stabilizing the damned thing and that mutt up and runs off with it! However, there’s no reason to go running about searching for it. Of course, it is one of the key ingredients for creating the Godstone, but I have little need for the Godstone as I will soon have my hands on a far greater power. Ah, my sweet, sweet Azoth. You are so splendid. A true masterpiece. I must have you. The infernal waiting grows rather tiresome._

A dog?

_“Hewie?”_

Upon hearing his name, the Alsatian peeked out from a hole in the fireplace.

“Hewie stole it? I wonder if he buried it in the garden or something,” she pondered.

“So, I guess you can be pretty sneaky when you want to, eh Hewie?” She said smilingly to her canine companion, kneeling in front of the fireplace. “What are you doing in _here_ , boy?”

The canine barked, and then his white head disappeared into the gap. She heard him barking and skipping around somewhere on the other side.

“Come on boy,” she encouraged. “We have to go before…” She stopped mid-sentence. Before _he_ gets back. While waiting for Hewie, Fiona skimmed through the inscription on the strange machine. _Decomposer. The initial step in this grand process begins with a manipulation of the primordial chaos. Deliver the Prima Materia to the extractor and the path to the Godstone and all its righteousness whilst be known. Midway down the sacred path, if the result of one’s knowledge bursts into ash, return to this location. For man is a beast of many mistakes and more fortunately so, of many redemptions, thus all is not lost. Ash begins chaos, chaos begins primordial life. Know that the grand process always begins here._

It would seem the apparatus had something to do with the room corroding away. Hence the rotten floor, which had just saved her life. Hewie was still barking on the other side. It was almost as if he was calling for her come, but the hole was way too small for her.

“Hewie…? What is it, boy?”

She picked up the map from her boot. There was another room adjacent to this one.

“Stay there,” Fiona ordered and hurried to find another way.

She backtracked to where she’d been running from Riccardo, turning left, then another left and up a stair while trying to shake of two foetus-like creatures unexpectedly dropping from the ceiling. Those little buggers turned out to be more persistent than the luminessants and Fiona kicked at them out of fear Riccardo might hear their high-pitch screams. After three hits, they dissolved in a red smoke, like the previous one had. At the end of the upstairs hallway, Fiona both saw and heard Hewie on the other side of a room that had been barred from the other side. She knocked on the door to get Hewie’s attention and shouted his name through a small peep window. The clever dog then lifted the wooden barrier away with his snout so Fiona could enter.

This was yet another research area. Pots of various sizes were spread around the floor and strange symbols and posters covered the walls. Fiona noticed a hole in the fireplace where Hewie had entered. The canine was patiently waiting for Fiona next to a closed door. Research equipment laid spread over a large table placed next to the hearth. Fiona examined the microscope, the scale, the test tubes and the chemicals, wondering what kind of research could possibly require all this equipment on such a large scale. Another one of those peculiar round things stood in the northwest corner, hooked up to several cylinder-shaped containers. Fiona’s eyes scanned the inscription.

_Purifier. The impure yellow mass of filth will set free the shining glory of the sacred platinum via this baptismal ritual. Proceed to the next step of the grand process that is synthesis._

“A purifier? I‘ve never heard of such a device before. The place was full of old inventions she’d never heard off. Here too, was an opening to insert something. She looked around.

“The fact that this area was bolted shut has to mean that someone was serious about keeping people out. Maybe there is something here… something important,” she pondered, hoping these riddles wouldn’t turn out to be yet another puzzle that had to be solved, although she suspected they were. Hewie was now scraping his paws on the door.

“What is it boy?” The dog appeared eager to show her something. She opened the door and let Hewie guide her.

They entered an antechamber with a clock to her right, a table covered by a red tablecloth to her left, the trademark chessboard pattern on the floor. At the other end, she opened a door and crossed an arched walkway, the path lit up by ordinary house lamps. Over the railing to her left, she could see a statue on the ground floor holding something in its hands, but she didn’t have time for a closer look. Hewie was moving fast and Fiona was not going to lose sight of him again. She hurriedly went through yet another door and into a red-lit hallway. There was none of those eerie ruby windows here, neither were there torches. Nevertheless, the corridor bathed in a mysteriously burning red. Moreover, it was divided into sections by wrought iron and rusty doors. Fiona opened the first one and saw another one of those foetus-like creatures dancing in the middle of the area. Hewie rushed forward and knocked it over. As Fiona watched it evaporate into red smoke, she thought it resembled what she’d seen moving in the furnace earlier. Relieved that no baby had been burned alive, she crossed over to a door on her right. There had been homunculi in every one of the five sections, four babies and one adult sitting on a chair, sobbing. She turned the knob and descended a staircase down to the other side of the graveyard. And just like on the other side, all tombstones had the name Aureolus Belli engraved. Fiona slowly stepped over to the gate. She could see the mausoleum through the iron bars. Chills went down her spine as she thought of the maid and what the crazy woman put her trough. She unlocked the gate and pushed it open. She did not intend to go back to that part of the mansion, but she thought it best to keep all doors open in case she needed to run away again. She heard Hewie make a sound. He was sitting next to her, holding something in his mouth, offering it to her.

“What is it boy?” She accepted the gift. The dog barked and wagged his tail, undoubtedly a proud boy.

“Good boy,” Fiona praised, stroked his head.

Returning to the mansion through the mysteriously red-lit hallway, she studied the present from Hewie. Inside a tiny velvet bag was an indescribable material that appeared to be both a solid and a liquid at once. She’d never seen or felt such a strange substance before. The words _Prima Materia_ had been embroidered on the marine blue bag with a gold thread. Wasn’t this the thing mentioned in the notes earlier? The thing that Hewie had stolen? Fiona’s eyes moved from the bag to the clever Alsatian and a faint smile formed on lips. The dog was tripping ahead, merrily wagging his tale from side to side. Back on the arched walkway, she froze. Her body in full alert, she listened. So did Hewie. They heard nothing. No footsteps, no slamming of doors, no brushing of clothes or any other human-made sound. Had she imagined hearing something just a moment ago? Had Hewie? Probably not. Despite that, she could not stay here. She put the velvet bag in her satchel together with the antimony and magnesia and resumed walking. Back in the room with the extractor, she heard a familiar voice. She gasped in fear as she saw Riccardo standing next to the table, firmly gripping his gun.

“So, this is where you’ve been,” he grinned. Fiona tried sidestepping the dangerous man to the exit, but when the gun exploded behind her, it was nearly impossible to keep a clear mind. In the corner of her eye, she saw Hewie lunging forward and followed by Riccardo hollering in pain. She shouted Hewie’s name as she ran the fastest she could, hasting through hallway after hallway, open doorways and up steep stairs. After a few minutes of running, she found herself in the operating room. She grabbed another bottle of acid, hiding it behind her back. It didn’t take long before Riccardo entered. He was fast, much faster than the giant and the maid. When he saw Fiona, he grinned, thinking he had her cornered. He slowly circled the operating table, tapping his gun at the palm of his hand. Fiona hurled the bottle at him and as with the maid earlier, the flask broke on impact. But this time, something went wrong. The smell of vinegar filled the air and Riccardo simply wiped the fluid of his face and lifted his head. She did not see his eyes, but there was no doubt he was furious. She bolted out the door.

“You’d better run, you damned wench,” Riccardo angrily yelled after her. He was not amused any more.

Fiona had no idea where to hide or where Hewie was. Rounding a corner, she untied the leather bag, picked up a jade coloured crystal and placed it on the ground. The magnesia exploded in a bright yellow flash when Riccardo stepped on it a moment later. She found a purple orb and hurled it at her stalker, watching in amazement as a haze of violet sparks surrounded the hooded man. From the noises he was making, Fiona could tell it was very painful. She picked up the more potent refined antimony and as soon as the effect of the previous one had died out, she hurled it at the threat in front of her. The yellow sparks were more powerful and longer lasting, rendering a shock with such strength that it was, combined with the other two, enough to knock Riccardo out. As he fell to the floor, he proclaimed to Fiona that she would not get away. The girl took advantage of the situation and bolted. Down a stair, through a long and dark hallway, turning right twice and crossing into an arched passage, humongous columns erected on both sides, torches flickering in the soft breeze lit up the walkway. For a second, she considered jumping over the edge, but she couldn’t see the ground below. She figured it best not gamble on the drop being three feet and not 30. Besides, she was not leaving without Hewie. Short of breath, she stumbled through the walkway and hid in a closet at the end of the passage.

After she’d calmed down, she could hear Hewie tripping outside, and with no sign of Riccardo she opened the closet and walked up to him, happy her beloved canine companion was unharmed. She stroked his fur, repeatedly telling him how sorry she was for running away. Hewie didn’t understand the human way of expressing emotions and concern, but he had no problem hearing the stress in her voice. He made a soft woof-sound and licked her cheek, the only way he knew to offer consolation. Fiona raised and with a notable calmer voice, she told him they had to get moving, opening a door into an area with huge columns and many chairs. The floor was made up of tiles the colour of asphalt with a set pattern of small and large white squares. She stepped onto a red carpet, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed a large door in front of her.

“This could be our way out,” she whispered under her breath, hurrying up to the massive entrance and started pushing the sturdy gate. It stood unnervingly still. Frustration was building up inside her.

“Open damn you! Open!” she cried out in desperation, kicking and hammering.

“Damn it!” she exclaimed to the bewildered dog. “Damn it Hewie, it just won’t open.” Frustrated, Fiona backed. She wasn’t the type to use profanity. Over the last two years, she could count the times she’d been cursing on one hand, and now she’d been swearing three times in a row but now feeling one bit uncomfortable or awkward about it. She was more worried that Riccardo might’ve heard her outburst. She listened for footsteps, but the only sound she could hear was the ticking of a grandfather’s clock to her right and Hewie’s paws on the floor. She took note of letters etched into the wood. She squinted her eyes. It was dark and she could just barely make out the words.

_Pursuer of truths, entrust the accumulation of knowledge to the judgement of the goddess. The mysteries beyond the door and the secret path will be known only to those resourceful enough to forge the Godstone._

“A Godstone?” Fiona pondered. “Maybe it will open the door?” Something was irking her, something buried deep in her mind. She turned and noticed a goddess figure on the other side of the hall. A pair of scales hung mysteriously from its hand. One dish was empty, off-setting the scales. Golden coins lay on the other tray. Fiona turned to look at the door again; _entrust the accumulation of knowledge to the judgement of the goddess… the Godstone._ She uncovered the velvet bag. She’d read about this earlier! _Deliver the Prima Materia to the extractor and the path to the Godstone and all its righteousness whilst be known._ She looked up at the goddess statue and smiled.

“I already know the solution to this puzzle,” she said with confidence and hurried out a door to her right.

The hall that she entered had multiple eerily burning-red windows to her right, and a fence of wrought iron to the left dividing the path in two. Another disturbing sight met her at the other end. Next to a locked door was a chart filled with different kinds of pill boxes. The labels were smudged out and illegible. As Fiona wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea of taking random pills, she let them be. Next to the chart was a stained chair with supports for the legs, the kind you’d find in a gynaecologist’s office. The floor nearby was smeared in blood and pus. A homonculus was down on all four, licking up the appalling smear. The revolting sight together with the dreadful, putrid stench made Fiona gag and her hand flew to her mouth. She quickly unlocked and hurried through a door and was back in the hall with the chanting homonculus. She quickly found the extractor she knew was there and put the Prima Materia inside the opening. The device summed to life and after a couple of minutes, the strange substance had changed into a yellow material called sulphuric ore.

“It actually transformed,” Fiona observed, somewhat amused. Was this the _‘yellow demon’_? Next stop would be the purifier, located in the room Hewie had unbarred. She hasted up to the second floor and put the yellow mass into the machine. Once again, its composition changed, and she was now in possession of the silver ore. Next step, the synthesizer. She remembered noticing it in the hallway upstairs when still being stalked by the insane maid. A long way to back track. But there was no other way if they were to escape. As she hurried through the many gloomy hallways, praying she wouldn’t run into Riccardo, she wondered once again why this was happening to her. What did this Riccardo want from her? Has she been mistaken for someone else? Deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case.

The synthesizer was exactly where she’d recalled. She put in the silver ore and watched it transform into the White Godstone. Rock in hand, she closely examining the crystalline structure, wondering if it was meant to look like that. As she was heading back to the mansion entrance, it troubled her more and more. It was meant to… not look like that, she was certain of it. Consulting the map, she found an unexplored room near the area where that weird creature had been slurping up the grizzly content spilled on the floor. Desperate to move on, she hadn’t checked that area thoroughly enough. She _still_ wanted to move on, but if she did this wrong, she would have to start all over again. Reluctantly, she realised had to make one last stop before she was ready for the goddess’ judgment.

The well-hidden and dim-lit room was the last unexplored area in the manor depicted on the map. She saw the peculiar-looking contraption the moment she entered. She skimmed through the engraving.

_Transmuter. Synthesizing two objects together is a task any fool could surely complete. The true sage strives to master the art of transformation and the deep inner secrets to be reaped. White is the fool’s colour, as they will never know the glories to be had beyond this stale hue. The true scholar striving for perfection knows only of the quest for the colour red, for it is the symbol of utter perfection._

She put the sliver ore inside and while the machine was doing its magic, Fiona had a look around. A homonculus was repeatedly head-butting the wall.

“And I thought I had problems,” she thought with a hint of irony. There was a desk on the other side, and what looked like incubators took up most of the space to her right. Through the glass windows, Fiona could see baby homunculi and umbilical cords floating around in a red fluid. She was now sure it’s what she’d seen baking in the oven earlier. The moment the transmuter was done, the glass broke, and the tiny creatures jumped out of the cylinders. Fiona grabbed the Red Godstone, hurried out and closed the door, locking them inside the room with the head-butting homonuculi.

Back in the vestibule, Fiona placed the Godstone on the empty dish, holding her breath as she watched the scale tipping from side to side, judging its content. Fiona exhaled in relief as the scale came to an approving halt, and she heard the door click and the gates crank open behind her. She called for Hewie, but that was not necessary. The canine had already exited and was waiting for Fiona on the other side. She hasted through the massive gate and down a long staircase. A homonculus was standing half way down, scratching its head in bewilderment. She was free! With good help from Hewie and Lorenzo, she had escaped. They were no longer prisoners of this middle-aged structure.

“We made it, Hewie!” she exclaimed. Unfortunately, their joy would not last long.

At the bottom of the steps, she turned to look at the building. Where had Riccardo gone off to? It didn’t matter. They were free! She was drawing heavy breaths again, but this time not out of terror or exhaustion. She started following a trail leading into a dense forest. A map marked Chaos Forest hung on an old, wooden fence.

Trouble started the minute they entered the forest. Hewie tensed and started to growl, making Fiona halt, wary. Suddenly the dog bust off and leaped into a nearby bush. A second later, a gunshot roared through the air, scaring off several crows.

“What was that? It sounded like… Oh, no. Hewie?!” Fiona ran panicky around in the forest, ears sharp for sounds of Hewie or Riccardo but she heard only birds. Shortly after, she reached a dead-end. Though still dark, she could clearly make out the shape of a lake and a tower erected in the centre. She turned, kept running until she finally heard the faint sound of an injured animal, leading her to Hewie. The poor dog had been shot in the hip and lay motionless on the ground, panting heavily. The wound appeared to be only superficial, but painful, nonetheless. Fiona crouched and stroked his fur, trying to comfort him the best she could.

“You’ll be all right,” she promised and took out her ponytail, tore apart the fabric, and tightened it around the wound.

“This will stop the bleeding,” she assured. Hewie was most grateful for her kindness. As she was tightening a knot, she heard a noise behind her. _Riccardo._ If he found Hewie now, he would use this opportunity to kill him, as the dog was completely defenceless. In order to keep Hewie safe, she had to distract him. She resumed her marathon through the labyrinth called chaos forest with Riccardo on her heels, no time to consult the map, which was confusing anyways. She kept running until the trail abruptly ended. Fiona saw nothing but trees and mountaintops. The fall was long, too long. Another shot roared the air. A warning. Even before she turned, she knew Riccardo was right behind her. Had he been planning this all along?

“Why are you doing this? What did I do?” she spoke, her fragile voice filled with desperation.

“You inherited your father’s Azoth. _That_ is what you did.”

Riccardo was dressed in another monk-like outfit now, this one more greyish, with red sandals.

“What Azoth?” Fiona demanded to know. “I don’t even know what that is!”

“That Azoth belongs to _us_ , Fiona.” Riccardo lowered his gun. “Don’t you see? You are our child.”

“Stop! I am _not_ your child.” Fiona opposed. “I know exactly how my parents are.”

Riccardo decided it was time to tell her why he had brought her here. “Fiona we are... Or rather, I am... _Knowledge._ I hold invaluable information from the dawn of time. I am a great alchemist. I will not die. I am Aureolus Belli and I… Look at me, Fiona, look.”

He removed his hood. It was time to reveal his true self.

“What?” Fiona said under her breath. A moment later, she realised why this man had seemed so familiar. The shocking truth rendered her unconscious within the next minute.

“Daddy,” she whispered.

“Just like your father, Ugo.”

And indeed, he was. Except for a multitude of scars traversing between his eyes, spreading across his face, he was an exact replica of her father. Her breathing was getting fast and shallow.

“We are clones.” Riccardo said. “We are clones!” he repeated with a sinister laughter that Fiona had heard before.

With horror and dread, she now remembered clearly the previous night. Memories best forgotten. Images of the crash blended with Riccardo’s insane laughter. It was _him, he_ had caused the accident. He had killed her father right before her eyes, and he had been standing over her, laughing hysterically, just as he did now. _Why?!_ The terror from being stalked by the maid and the giant, Riccardo’s revealed identity, the memories, the injured Hewie and general tiredness. It was too much. For the second time that night, Riccardo’s words made her pass out. A second before everything went black Riccardo spoke the most insane, painful and terrifying words she’d heard up until then.

“Ugo is no more. I am the original.”


	20. Privacy, What is That?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just saying, I do not endorse any of what I've written from Riccardo's POV.

Riccardo Belli strode up to the unconscious girl and crouched to study her pale, yet beautiful complexion. She was lying on her back, looking peaceful in her sleep. He noticed a large compress taped onto her leg. The once white fabric had turned reddish-brown, saturated with coagulated blood. It would appear that the unlucky lass had gotten a huge slash on her thigh somehow. Served her right for snooping around. He watched how her gorgeous breasts slowly heaved and dropped at the rhyme of her breathing, and felt a tingle he hadn’t felt in a long time, a sweet sensation in his groin that grew as he thought of what he was going do to her.

“With that Azoth, I will _finally_ be complete,” Riccardo spoke to the unconscious woman, pleased that he was in control again.

“You are about to give birth to me all over again,” he smirked, picking up a cloth and two vials from his inner pocket. He opened the glass container and dabbed chloroform onto the handkerchief, which he placed over the young girl’s mouth. The sweet-smelling, powerful sedative could have nasty side effects if overused, so he gave her a smaller dose than he had the previous night, though still enough to keep her unconscious for hours. He removed the fabric after two inhalations. Remembering how exasperating it had been to carry the unconscious Fiona from the hallway outside the kitchen up to the castle suite earlier, he unscrewed the lid of the other vial. Mimicking something he’d seen on television once, he raised the vial up in the air, and with a “Bottoms up,” he drained the content in one go and tossed the empty vial onto a rock nearby, breaking the glass into a thousand pieces. With a full dose of Fortis floating in his veins, he could easily carry the girl from here to Constantinople. Feeling like he was twenty again, he lifted Fiona up in his arms and carried her through the forest and back to the mansion.

The Bellis had never endorsed Christianity. While the rest of the world around them had converted to Roman Catholisism, they had continued worshipping ancient deities. For that, they had been feared and hated, condemned and persecuted by newly converted Catholics, the Vatican and the Roman Inquisition. They’d been called pagans, heretics, sacrileges and worse. The Bellis had responded by ruthless means and eventually they had been left alone, dreaded and loathed by the pity peasants living in the vicinity. He walked up the Goddess of judgment and retrieved the crimson Red Godstone from the scale.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” he grinned. The sacred item was even more beautiful and splendid than he’d imagined. Perfect. Unspoiled. Thanks to the girl, he now had both the Godstone and the Azoth. And with the mutt out of the way, there wouldn’t be any more unpleasant surprises. Nothing could stop him now. He had won.

He walked through the many dark hallways, ascended the stairs with ease and soon he entered the exam room. The sound of broken glass being further crushed under his feet could be heard as he crossed the brightly lit room. He hadn’t seen it coming, not at all. Thanks to the uncontrollable nature of his ‘niece’, he’d gotten to try a new type of cologne as that foolish girl had tossed a bottle of acetic acid at him. Despite washing his face and a change of clothes, he still reeked of vinegar. After that, he’d resumed his search for the rebellious teen, annoyed with himself for losing control over her. _That_ would not happen again. Not only had she succeeded in making her way to the old mansion’s west wing, a place Riccardo had thought inaccessible for everybody but himself, but she’d also managed to create the Godstone and thereby unlock the front entrance. Hadn’t she realized that these doors, these areas, had been locked for a reason? But this was the last time he underestimated the youngster. He’d initially planned the medical examination for the following day, but since the girl had proved to be a lot more difficult to control than anticipated, he decided on doing a quick exam tonight and then imprison her in the most secure place on the premises. Until she accepted her destiny and knew her place in the Belli hierarchy, she had to be locked away. She’d given him no other choice.

The examination/autopsy bench was heavily stained and smelled awful. He habitually cleaned it between examinations, but he rarely sterilized it, though he had planned to do so before examining the girl. But unfortunately for young Fiona Belli, he couldn’t afford to worry about hygiene now. As he was about to place the lifeless body on the bench, he hesitated.

“Now, we wouldn’t want something _that_ beautiful to be smudged, would we?” he mumbled to himself, as he gently removed and folded the dress, placing the undressed girl on the table. For reasons only known by her, she had removed her ponytail and her blonde hair now hung loose around her pale, delicate shoulders. With clammy fingers, he stroked her cold cheek and forehead. Bright and beautiful, she was definitely the offspring of Ayla Belli. Closing his eyes, he thought of when young Ayla Donaldson had first entered the castle’s gates twenty years ago. Both men had been taken aback by the young woman’s stunning beauty when greeting her welcome. Their research had come to a halt and it had been decided that outside help was needed. Ugo had started searching for someone nearby who was skilled in complex biochemistry and was able to read and understand the castle’s many ancient books. Young Miss Ayla had seemed to be the perfect choice. Not only was she multilingual and studying the relevant subjects, she was also a foreigner. In a foreign land, far away from the nearest house, locked in an ancient castle the world had forgotten about, she would have no one to turn to, no one to ask for help. He hadn’t counted for that wench to seduce Ugo, twisting his mind. With her sweet-talk Slowly but surely, the woman had convinced Ugo that their research was ‘wrong’, that what they were striving for was a ‘violation’ of human rights. She had talked about ‘unethical procedures’, ‘morally wrong’ and similar nonsense babble. Ugo had succumbed to her spell and one day he announced that they were in love, that Ayla had opened his eyes and that they were leaving the premise for good. Riccardo had been baffled and furious and he hadn’t been the only one. He had disliked his ‘brother’ for as long as he could remember, and the fact that Ayla had chosen Ugo over Riccardo had made him even more furious.

He moved his hand from her face and stroked her torso and abdomen. Her belly was flat as a pancake, but that would soon change. There were other ways to obtain the sacred Azoth of course, but they were far too - messy. He preferred _this way_. The concentration of Azoth was especially high in a woman’s womb, and by fertilizing her with his seed, the offspring would be a reincarnation of _him,_ and with each penetration, he would steal more and more of her Azoth. He traced the outline of her navel with his fingertips and then he moved a bit more south. Her skin was so soft, so delicate. Just like her mother’s. He couldn’t blame his twin for being drawn to Ayla. He’d many times been aroused himself when watching Miss Donaldson take a shower from his secret peep window. Falling in love however, _that_ was another story. With lustful eyes, he traced every curve and valley of young Fiona Belli’s perfect body. Her pubic hair was a dark blonde, about the same colour as her eyebrows. The same colour of her mother’s. The thought of Ayla in the shower made the sweet, tingling sensation in his groin return and he felt himself harden. All of a sudden, he was breathing heavily. Erotic images filled his head as he played with the hairs covering her vulva, gently stroking his fingers up and down the soft, moist tissue. He was now nearly panting. He lifted the fingers to his mouth and drew in the scent. _Ah…the scent of a woman._

The girl let out a soft moan and Riccardo directed his attention to her face. She had turned her head in her sleep. He noticed her nipples had hardened, and he could see minuscule goose bumps on her arms. He wondered whether it was the result of a crude, bodily response to his touch or if she was merely being cold. The thought of the girl responding to his touch, even if only by instinct, made him lust for her strongly and he found it hard to control himself. _Not here, not now, he_ reminded. To distract himself, he retrieved an old, scruffy patient wear in one of the drawers and put it over the pale, slender body. It was almost a perfect fit. He then removed her boots and socks and watched in surprise as several folded papers fell to the floor. He bent down to retrieve them, curious to what the young girl had stashed away. Spilled acids were still covering the floor and the documents were now soon soaked in it, but he recognised maps over the castle and mansion, as well as a couple of scrawled memos. Though the acids had started to burn the papers, making the writing hard to decipher, he recognised Lorenzo’s writing.

“So, this old fool has been helping you, eh? I should have guessed. Well, when I find him, he won’t be helping anybody ever again,” he smirked, full of confidence.

The right boot that Fiona had worn was covered in blood, so he threw them and the socks in the bin, swept up the broken glass, puzzled by the number of shards there were from just one simple bottle of vinegar. Moreover, how could simple acetic acid etch through the documents in seconds? Riccardo quickly moved to the shelves, scanning the content. The bottle containing sulphuric acid was missing. That was the smell… _How…?_ He looked at Fiona, soundly asleep on the exam table. His eyes narrowed. When finished here, he was going to find out exactly what had been going on the last couple of hours.

Finally, he could start the exam. Her pulse and blood pressure were fine, 60 bpm and 100/50 mm/hg respectively. A bit low, but nothing alarming. He suspected the chloroform was to blame. Rectal body temperature was 36.6° Celcius/97.88° Fahrenheit. He lifted one of her eyelids and shone a sharp light into her eyes. The pupils contracted immediately. He then took a pen from the desk and stroked the tip quickly over the sole of her feet, making them flex. Riccardo was pleased by the result. Nothing wrong with her reflexes. He then turned his attention towards the discoloured compress on her thigh. He gently removed the pad and examined the injury, his brows frowning. A six-inch, wide gap traversed from just above her knee and outward to the side of her thigh. He didn’t like how deep it was. A serious septicaemia could prove devastating for his plans. Cursing himself for not having any suture left, he cleaned the wound with alcohol, smeared on anti-bacterial and taped on a clean compress.

In full control himself again, it was time for the most important part of the examination. He picked up a thin metal stick, one of his own inventions. Sensors on the tip of the rod measure the thickness of the wall of Fiona’s uterus as well as the levels of different hormones, thus predicting where in the menstrual cycle she was and most importantly, when she would be ovulating. He lifted Fiona’s legs slightly upward so that her knees were pointing to the ceiling, and then he placed both hands on her knees and gently pushed them aside. He now had a clear view of the rosy flesh between her legs. The tingle in his lower part resurfaced, but this time he could control it. He bent down and inserted the pole in her vagina, pushing it all the way through the cervix and into the uterus.

“She really _has been_ a good little daddy’s girl,” he observed, pleased to find out she was a virgin. The girl shifted in her sleep again. He slowly pulled the rod out of her and examined the tip closely.

“Hm, another two or three days at most,” he noted and put it down. He took out a key from his inner pocket and unlocked a cabinet to his left. He picked out a small vial, unscrewed the lid, walked up to the sleeping girl and lifted her eyelids. With a drop counter, he added two drops of a viscous fluid to her eyes, and after another “bottoms up,” he drank the content of a small bottle that had been placed next to the vial. He had been working on this half the night and if the formula worked, she would now have a hard time trying to elude him.

He picked up the girl from the table, the clothing from the counter and headed out the door. He didn’t want any more trouble at such a critical phase. Walking down to the mansion entrance, he put the Godstone on the scale, exited the door and headed back into the forest. He knew exactly where to go. He crossed a small stone bridge and followed a path that seemed to end at the top of a hillside, oblivious to the three pair of eyes trailing his every move. He walked into a bush and pushed a lever to open a well-hidden trap door. The secret passage to the water tower was hundreds of years old. The opening mechanism, however, was not. Insisting on modifying the entire Belli estate for research and security reasons, Riccardo and Ugo had changed much of the property and equipment. Electronics to facilitate their research and rebuilding of the mansion to make certain areas harder to access. Ugo had been taking care of the plumbing and was the mastermind behind the drainage area separating the east and west wing of the mansion. Riccardo had been dealing with some of the modern gadgets, using money donated by German Nazis in the 1940’s. The German Nazis and the Italian fascists had been one of the few outsiders that the Bellis had been working with in the quest for gold and eternal life. Though well before his time, Riccardo had always been very proud over this collaboration with such a devoted group of soldiers and their many, visionary leaders. In fact, the former Italian Prime Minister, the great Benito Mussolini had once made a clandestine visit to Belli castle. He turned another lever to close the lid and walked into the gloominess. Ten minutes later, he opened the door into the water tower, turned left and placed the young girl inside an old cage with solid, metal bars.

“Let’s see if you can escape this time, sugar,” he grinned and threw the dress onto a wooden box, not noticing the two folded documents lying on top. She could change when she woke up. He locked the gate and pulled hard on the bars. She wouldn’t be getting anywhere.

“Don’t you worry, angel. I’ll be back soon,” he whispered to the unconscious woman and headed back to the entry, not noticing the shadow in a nearby corner sneaking forward to steal the shiny item hanging from his belt. He locked the door behind him and retraced his steps through the secret passage and back to the mansion.

~*~

Fiona’s dreams were a macabre distortion of flickering images and unnerving sounds. First, she was at home with her parents. Up in her room reading a horror novel, she heard a strange noise and went downstairs to investigate. The living room was covered in blood and Riccardo was standing in the middle of the room, laughing over the lifeless, slashed corpses of what had once been her parents. Dressed in a black cloak, he showed her a picture of herself heavily pregnant, telling her that she would give birth to his son. Fiona tried to run but her feet would not move, she tried to scream, but could not make a sound. Then she was in class, her college professor was dressed in a green maid’s uniform. She asked Fiona a question she didn’t know the answer to. For that, she was punished by a slap over her fingers with a sharp glass rod. The professor then laughed hysterically at the sight of blood oozing from Fiona’s hand. She turned to her classmates for help, but they seemed to be in a trance, wagging their bodies back and forth, mumbling nonsense. Then she was running away from the giant caretaker at campus. She hasted through dark hallways trying to find her room, but the more she searched, the more she was lost. She ended up in a thick, dark and ghostly forest with Hewie. They kept running until reaching a metal barrier. On the other side of the fence, her mother was calling out her name and waving for her to hurry over to the other side. Then out of nowhere, a man dressed in armour emerged from the branches and started shooting arrows of massive iron after her. She managed to leap out of the way, but one of the arrows hit Hewie in the leg. Crawling on all four, she tried to get over to her injured friend, but the more she tried, the farther away he seemed to be. Her fingers bore into the green moss covering the forest floor. The forest plants were soft and saturated with water, but still the ground felt hard as a rock. She was covered in blood. Whose blood? Her parents? Hewie’s? Her own?

She woke, miserable and cold, not knowing why. She felt a movement of something soft and moist gliding over her fingers. Her senses were registering the impulses, but her head was too drowsy to function. She lifted her head and forced her eyes to focus on the white cloud in front of her. When she realised what it was, hope and joy filled her, and then when she realised _where_ she was, dread and trepidation took over and her heartbeat sank. She was locked inside a cell in a basement or dungeon of sorts. On the other side of the bars, Hewie was licking her outstretched right hand.

 _“Hewie!”_ she spoke in a tender voice filled with relief. The canine lifted his head to check if the girl was unharmed. She looked tired, he thought, but otherwise in good health. He nudged a set of keys with his snout, barked and tripped his legs to show her that he was in good health and ready to move.

“You saved me again,” Fiona smiled, grabbing the keys. That’s when she noticed the sleeve. She gazed down on her body and discovered in horror that she was wearing a blood-smeared outfit that looked like something used by people undergoing surgery. She panicky felt under the gown. What she’d feared was true. She was not wearing underwear! Why? The last thing she remembered was passing out in the forest. What had that freak Riccardo done to her? Had he undressed her? _Seen her naked?!_ Hewie tilted his head, puzzled about Fiona’s sudden agitation. With trembling fingers, she picked up the key, unlocked the door and reunited with Hewie.

“There you are, boy.” She stretched out her arms and gave the Alsatian a gentle hug. Even though he wasn’t too crazy about the way humans expressed emotions and fondness, he sat still and let her embrace him.

“Thank you, Hewie.”

She noticed the dress she’d been wearing lying on a wooden box. She put on the underwear and then she yanked off the gown and put on the gothic-style garment. The boots, however, were nowhere to be found. She would have to walk around barefoot. _Great!_ Two folded papers that had been lying under the dress had drifted to the floor. One was a map over a place called The Water Tower and the other was a memo from this mysterious Lorenzo. She hadn’t heard from him in a while and was happy to learn that he hadn’t forgotten about her. She read the note with emotions going from hope to disappointment to bewilderment and then to fretfulness.

_Fiona, are you well? Let me tell you about the location you are currently in. This place is known as the Water Tower. That cursed Riccardo has confined you in this tower. It disheartens me to say that there are no exits left in the water tower. However, all is not lost for there is a way to create an exit. Somewhere in the basement, there lies an item known as the magisterium. After you obtain in, use it at the top floor of the tower. That will open a path that connects the water tower to the house of truth where I reside. Also, avoid Riccardo at all costs. He is, for lack of a better word, dangerous. Oh, if only I weren’t cursed with his useless fossil of a body, I would run to you aid. Also faith hasn’t given me that chance. I pray for your safety, Fiona. Lorenzo._

A Magisterium? “More nonsensical words,” she sighted. “I have no idea what this does either. But knowing how things have been going, I’ll probably need this for something or the other, so I better look around.”

According to the map, she was in the basement. Together with Hewie, she walked past a table of rotted wood and followed the path to an open doorway. She noticed a device like the ones she’d been using in the mansion to make the Godstone. _Sublimatium Container_ , it said, _May the wise sage, seer of all, show the testament of proof to the wounded, and thus receive compensation._

She wondered what it meant and if she’d have to use it later. Passing the doorway, she headed right. S locked door. She unfolded the map again. Another exit. There had to be one. She realised she had no other choice but to find this _magisterium_ and make her way to the top of the tower if they were to escape this nightmarish place. She turned and started exploring the narrow, murky pathway.

“This place scares me,” she whispered to Hewie.

“Fiona!”

Both the girl and the dog turned towards the sound. All Fiona could see was empty air, but Hewie was feverishly barking at a fixed point in the room. Horror struck through Fiona as Riccardo suddenly emerged from out of nowhere, slapping his hand over the canine’s snout, making the dog whimper. “Damn you, useless mutt!” Looking up at the terrified young girl, he disappeared into thin air again. Fiona’s eyes scanned the area, she could both hear and smell Riccardo, but the insane man was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah, the formula is working, then.” The familiar footsteps grew louder. It felt like they were circling her. She turned. Nothing. Was she going mad?

“It works directly on the eyes.” _What was he talking about?_ Did he still carry his gun with him?

“You can’t see me, _can you_?” The next time he spoke, he was standing right next to her. Fiona gasped and her hands flew to her face as she felt something touching her chin. Then Riccardo reappeared for a split second.

“You are mine. I own you. You are mine. I own you _._ ” She stumbled backwards and started running through the cellar and away from this madman.

“There’s nowhere to run,” Riccardo called out.


	21. The Search for Miss Belli

Leon arrived at the precinct in Digne shortly after nine, wearing dark jeans, a navy-blue shirt and a black leather jacket. His light brown hair still had that floppy cut. Harrison greeted him warmly, the men exchanged courtesies and then the British investigator handed Leon the case files. They’d met seven years ago at the police academy and had kept in touch ever since. Since they were both extremely busy _and_ living on two different continents, they rarely had time to meet so they were equally grateful for this opportunity to catch up. It’d been more than a year since the last time.

“You have no idea how relieved I am that you’re here, man,” Harrison said to his friend, rushing a hand through his hair. Leon shifted his gaze from the folder on Ayla Belli to the tall Englishman on the other side of the desk.

“Hey, I’m never too busy to help out an old friend, Eddie,” he replied with a boyish grin. Harrison grimaced. He hated his middle name and apparently Leon was in a teasing mood. He decided to let it go. This time.

“So, how’d you persuade them to give you time off anyway, and how’d you manage to get here so fast?”

Leon emitted a low chuckle. When you single-handedly rescue the daughter of the President of the United States and prevent a coup against the US at the same time, it’s not hard to ask for favours. Leon had personally met with the US President in the oval office where Mr. Graham had complimented him on a job well done, and if there was anything he could do to show his appreciation, Leon should not hesitate to ask. Not only had the Secret Service agreed to give Leon time off for a couple of days, with full salary _and_ an open return ticket to Dulles Airport in Washington D.C, but they’d also flown him to Provence in a private jet.

“Ever since the incident in Spain last year, it’s been _US government at your service_ ,” Leon replied, returning his attention to the case file.

“About that, when we’re on the road, I want the full story.” The Kennedy report was classified of course, but as an Interpol agent investigating possible threats to international security, Harrison had full clearance.

“Didn’t you read the report?” Leon put Ayla’s file down and picked up the folder on Fiona Belli.

“Yeah, of course. The official part I pretty much know by heart, but I want to hear your version.” He was especially curious about a certain rumour about a woman in red, which had not been included in the official report. He thought it best not to bring it up now. It was a good five-hour drive to Piedmont, they could talk about it in the car. He looked at his watch.

“Hey, we should probably get going. I’ll tell you more about the case and that castle when we’re on the road. There is a place where you can change down the hall…” Harrison stopped mid-sentence. Leon didn’t appear to be listening.

“Leon…?”

His eyes transfixed to the photo of the young girl, the American agent was completely absorbed in his own mind.

“Hey, LEON!”

“Huh? Sorry, mate. I got lost for a moment there. What’d you say?”

Harrison repeated what he’d just said. Leon nodded and disappeared through the doorway, taking his bag with him. Harrison glanced at the photo of Fiona. A lovely young girl smiled back at him, dressed in a white blouse and a black vest, her blonde hair tucked back in a ponytail. Even from a black and white photo, the young woman radiated a strong, almost magnetic charisma. Yes, she was breathtakingly gorgeous, yet Leon’s behaviour puzzled him. Protective by nature and with a strong sense of duty, Leon S. Kennedy had always been very conscious about his responsibility as a police officer and later as a special agent. As far as he knew, Leon had never lost focus during a briefing like he did just a moment ago. Ever.

After a couple of minutes, Leon reappeared wearing navy blue combat trousers, a high-necked charcoal grey t-shirt, black laced shoes and a tough tan leather jacket lined with sheepskin. Harrison had already changed into a black t-shirt and forest green army trousers. He put on his jacket, reported to Guillot and then the two men left for the Italian border in Harrison’s car. The English detective was driving with Leon riding shotgun. While waiting for Leon to arrive, Harrison had killed time by doing some research, phone calls with Signora Casartelli and trying to get some sleep, but with all the adrenaline and caffeine floating in his system, the latter had proved impossible. As they drove through Digne-les-Bains and Barcelonette they discussed the case and Harrison enlightened Leon about the enigmatic castle. After a few hours of digging up old, dusty parchments in the library, the Italian historian had managed to narrow down the castle’s likely whereabouts to an area of five square kilometres.

“Alchemy, eh?” Leon looked puzzled, trying to remember the high school lessons on medieval history. Harrison nodded with enthusiasm.

“The Bellis tried to make themselves a quick fortune by creating gold, eh?”

“Apparently there’s a lot more to alchemy than just making gold from base metals,” Harrison enlightened. He started to outline what he’d learned over the last couple of hours.

“As a part of an Occult Tradition, it’s both a philosophy and a practice. With an aim of achieving ultimate wisdom as well as immortality, it involved the improvement of the alchemist as well as the making of several substances described as possessing unusual properties, such as the Philosophers’ Stone. Moreover, alchemy generated the basics of modern inorganic chemistry, specifically procedures, equipment, as well as the identification and use of many current substances.”

Leon listened without interrupting. Harrison continued talking. ”Alchemy is heavily related to astrology, and has been practiced in Mesopotamia, Ancient Egypt, Persia, India, Japan, Korea and China, in Classical Greece and Rome, in the Muslim civilizations, and in Europe up to the 20th century in a network of schools and philosophical systems spanning at least 2500 years. Some even claim alchemy is very much alive even today. In 1980, Swedish nuclear chemist Glenn Seaborg came very close to the mythical Philosopher's Stone when he transmuted several thousand atoms of bismuth into gold at the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory. Unfortunately for him, the method proved to be too expensive for industrial use.”

Leon glanced at his partner and cooked a smile.

“And where’d you learn all of this, Johnny? Wikipedia?”

Harrison sighted. His old friend didn’t seem to be very impressed by the mythical occult tradition.

“Look, the sources check out, okay” he interjected. “I find the practice and philosophy fascinating.”

Leon snorted in response. However mythical, complex or fascinating, they were all aiming for the same thing, alchemists or not. Money, power and/or immortality. Certain things never change. Like human greed. Leon’s eyes scanned the surroundings outside. A flashback to rural Spain last year. A mission to locate and rescue a young girl from an unidentified group of people. A religious cult. Villagers gone crazy. A medieval castle inhabited by malicious and blood thirsty zealots. What was meant to be a routine mission had soon turned to mayhem. Now he was on his way to an ancient, medieval castle in rural Italy to rescue a young girl believed to have been kidnapped by an unknown individual or individuals. What kind of evilness was waiting for him now? He had a bad feeling about this.

Harrison interrupted his thoughts. “So tell me about those ganados and the Los Illuminados?” he prompted, like he’d been reading Leon’s mind. It was the topic of their conversation for the next hour. Leon told him about the arrival, the crazy villagers, the unlucky police officers, the equally unlucky Luis Sera, the castle, the island, the novistadores, the plaga infested wolves, the intense battle with Salazar’s right hand in the tunnels below the castle, how he’d rescued and lost Ashley Graham four times, Bitores Mendez, Ramon Salazar, Lord Saddler, even Jack Krauser. Not a word about a woman in red.

“So…” Harrison started, trying to sound casual. He knew it was a touchy subject.

“There’s this hot rumour going on that Ada Wong is alive and that she was in Spain during the event.” Leon tensed and shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

“She did?” Harrison arched an eyebrow. Leon said nothing, but his expression was answer enough. “So, it is true. She _is_ alive! What was she doing there?”

Leon raised his shoulders and gave a palm’s up. “You should know. That’s _your_ line of work.”

Harrison chuckled. “It’s easier to get information about the Chinese triad than that woman. No one seems to know anything about her. Besides, our focus right now is Albert Wesker. According to our intelligence, he’s left for Africa for unknown reasons.” Now it was Leon’s turn to raise an eyebrow. This was new to him.

“BSAA’s planning on sending an agent to investigate. Chris Redfield. You know him, right?”

Leon nodded. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

“You heard anything from Ms. Wong?” he asked, trying to get back on the subject.

“Nope,” Leon replied. “The last time I saw her, she was flying away in a helicopter with a sample of the _las plagas_ in her hand,” he snorted. Her taunting words when waving the purple cylinder victoriously in the air echoed in his mind. _Don’t worry I’ll take good care of it._

“Hey, it’s probably for the best,” Harrison consoled. “The gal is smokin’ hot, but she ain’t the kind of woman you’d want to get involved with,” he said with an exaggerated southern accent.

“Yeah.” Leon couldn’t object to that. For six years he’d believed Ada Wong to be dead, blaming himself for not being able to save her. Then it turns out she is alive and well. If what happened in Raccoon City really _had_ meant something to her, she would’ve let him know she was alive. If she cared about him, she would never have pressed the detonator while he and Ashley was still stuck on that damn island only throwing him a key and a _you’d better get moving_. Hell, if she really cared about him, she would never have put a gun to his head for goodness sake! Nevertheless, the woman in red still haunted his mind and he found himself daydreaming about her more than he cared to admit. Grabbing his bag from the backseat, he retrieved a CD. Harrison sensed Leon’s uneasiness.

“You still think about her, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Leon said, hitting play. The rock music roaring from the speakers meant the conversation was over. Leon’s last words almost drowned in the lyrics of _American Idiot._

“Every damn day.”

Nearing the Italian border, they pulled aside for a short snack. The menu was in French, so Harrison ordered since Leon’s vocabulary in the respective language was limited to _bonjour_ and _merci_.

“Hey, about Ada, I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories or anything like that. I’m sorry I brought it up,” Harrison said after the waitress had gone. Leon leaned back and raised his hands.

“It’s okay, don’t worry ‘bout it, Johnny. So, what about you? Are you seeing someone?”

Harrison looked as he was about to say something and then he closed his mouth, exhaled and leaned back. Point taken. Both men chuckled. Neither felt like talking about their love life - or lack thereof. The waitress brought their meals. Leon got his baked beans and a seltzers and Harrison got served a tuna sandwich and a cappuccino. The English detective had a bad habit of pouring down on caffeine when working late and tonight was no exception. After the seventh cup, his stomach had started to object, but his body still craved caffeine so he’d ordered the Italian variant of coffee with milk hoping it would prove to be more to his liking than the French café au lait. He took one zip, wrinkled his nose and pushed the cup aside. Leon found it amusing, though he wasn’t completely satisfied with his beverage either. He craved for a beer but drinking alcohol on a mission was out of the question. Fifteen minutes they were behind the wheels again. This time Leon drove, and Harrison gave directions, a stack of notes and maps on his lap and a GPS in his hand. After driving for an eternity in the middle of nowhere, Harrison finally announced they were inside the search area. Though they had spotted several medieval buildings earlier, none of them had been Belli castle. The car rolled slowly over a narrow, rock-strewn forest road. It was in the middle of the night and the woods were thick, making the search virtually impossible. Leon had to agree that this was the perfect place to hide away a huge, ancient castle. They inched forward for another twenty minutes, scanning the thick vegetation for any signs of lights, the silhouette of a fortress or a tower in the dark sky when suddenly the road changed from loose pebbles to stone bricks. The men exchanged looks. This was the first sign of human construction they’d seen in a long time. Dimming the headlights, they continued for another ten minutes, before the road ended at a huge, massive gate. They were now practically in the middle of the search area.

“We’d better go out and have a look around,” Leon suggested. Harrison agreed. The men removed their jackets and strapped on brown leather holsters with sheaths, Leon’s held a knife and Harrison’s housed a gun. Leon had his gun attached to his belt. He also put on a pair of black fingerless gloves, parked the vehicle in a small curve by the road and killed the engine. The agents stepped out, locked the doors and walked up to the sturdy gate. As expected, it was practically bolted shut and there were no windows to climb, no bells to ring, no means to announce your arrival.

“I guess there’s no welcome committee waiting for us on the other side,” Harrison remarked.

“Yeah, no one’s planning on opening this door. If we want to get inside, we’re gonna have to dig our own way in.”

“Then we’d better start searching for a way in. The wall is far too high for us to climb.”

Leon agreed and the men started walking alongside the castle wall. It was partially cloudy; the moon provided some light, but they mostly had to rely on their flashlights. As they were stumbling over rocks, roots and branches, Leon noticed snow-covered mountaintops in the distance because the little moonlight there was reflected the layer of snow.

“Hey, John. Those mountains over there, are we this close to the Alps?

“Yep. Piedmont, or Piemonte in Italian, is short for _Ai piedi del monte,_ which means _at the base of the mountain_.” Another fact he’d learned over the course of the night.

“Which way are we moving?” Leon wondered. Harrison checked his GPS. “Northeast,” he responded.

“You have any idea how big this castle is?”

“Not sure.” Harrison stopped to catch his breath. “No one really knows anything specific about this pl…AAACE…” Before he could finish his sentence, the English agent vanished into the earth.

“John! Hey, are you OK? Answer me!” Leon shouted into the black hole in the ground where Harrison had been standing just a moment ago, shining his flashlight into the gap. But the English detective was dressed in dark clothing, making it hard to see him. Leon exhaled in relief when his friend shouted back.

“I’m okay. The fall isn’t that high. And hey, I think I’ve found a way in. There’s a tunnel down here, and according to the GPS, it goes under the wall.”

Leon jumped into the gap and the men started walking through the tunnel. The GPS soon lost its signal. After ten yards, they were stopped by a stone blockade. The rocks appeared to be loose and with a solid kick from Harrison, the wall crumbled down. On the other side, they started to climb a ladder attached to a wall of stone. A tightly sealed wooden board prevented them from departing the underground shaft. Harrison tried to break it open with his shoulders, but the plate wouldn’t budge. After several tries, he was beat and then Leon had a go at the barrier. First, he tried muscle force. The plate eventually moved a little. Then he coaxed his knife between the wood and the stone, prying the board lose bit by bit. It was a strenuous task and sweat was dripping from his forehead. Five minutes later it was Harrison’s turn again. Their hard work eventually paid off and the cover came loose.

Leon climbed out of the shaft to the cool and fresh air. He gave Harrison his hand and pulled him out in one go. The English detective had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. Leon looked around. There were two open doors and a ladder leading into the immense building in front of them.

“Looks like we’ve entered the property through an old well,” Leon noted. Harrison was sitting on the edge. His eyes fell on an oddly placed bench.

“Hey, you seen the angle of that bench? Why is it placed like this?” Leon’s palms and shoulders shot up and down in a hasty move. Didn’t know, didn’t care. He jerked his head in the direction of one of the doors. Harrison followed.

 

“What do you make of this?” Harrison asked in bewilderment. Scratching his head, Leon shrugged, equally puzzled by the peculiar sight in front of them. Except for a massive bookcase lying on the floor, there was nothing unusual about the room.

“Why on earth would anyone place a wooden statue of a pregnant woman in a sofa inside a room filled with musical instruments?”

“Beats me,” Leon responded, still scratching his head. “Perhaps they have a thing for weird art.”

The sculpture of the young woman with the large belly resembled the missing girl, but it also resembled dozens of other young girls. Though Harrison remembered the pathologist’s remark about the disfigured corpse that had given birth and felt a buzz of excitement.

“It looks to have been made quite recently. Everything else in this room seems to be quite old.”

The fact that the furniture was immaculately clean didn’t escape the men’s trained eyes. There was something up above, but there were no stairs or any other means to get up there, and outside a gate blocked their path so the men left the area and walked back to where they had entered the premises.

 

Back to where they’d enter the premise, Harrison suggested they split up to cover more ground. They turned on the radio, agreed on a frequency and then Leon went up the ladder while Harrison entered the open door. Leon climbed onto a small veranda with an open doorway. On the other side was a small room filled with research equipment that looked like it had expired in the 18th century, pots, books and old parchments. A cauldron hung over a fire burning fiercely hot and a huge sculpture of earth stood to his left, facing the wall.

“Yup, they sure got one helluva bizarre taste for art around here,” he snorted and walked out to the hallway outside, continuing down a shady corridor that turned out to be a dead end. One of the chandeliers hung loose, making an eerie, _haunted-house_ sound. Not a good omen. There was nothing in the corridor except for a locked door and a dirty old painting. All other doors had been left open. Taking out his gun, he carefully opened the rotted door and peeked inside. There was no one in the murky room so he lowered his gun. Compared to the other areas he’d seen so far; this place was dirty as hell. A chandelier had fallen to the floor and shattered tiles were strewn all around the floor. There was also birdcage, a couple of chairs that looked like they’d break if any one tried to sit on them and something that looked like a typewriter in a corner. When pressing the keys, the machine spitted out a thin plate engraved with the letters he’d pressed. An old parchment and another thin plate lay on the floor. The parchment contained nonsense babble about ‘life from soil’ and ‘ethereal guardian of alchemic secrets’. It was the metal plate that caught his attention. Leon quickly rose.

“That sonovabitch was right. She really _is_ here.”

In his hand he held a plate engraved with the name FIONA. He pocketed it and retrieved his radio to call for Harrison. At that very moment, a scream echoed through the hallway outside. Leon equipped his gun and stormed out of the room.

“John! Where are you?”

No answer. Leon turned left and ran through a bending hallway. His heart nearly stopped when he spotted a column smeared with blood. He hasted up to it and leaned over the railing.

“John!” he called out. Another scream pierced his ears. Leon noticed the blood was several days old. It couldn’t belong to his friend. Relieved but still fearful, he ran in the direction of the screams. Through a doorway, he saw Harrison crawling on the floor. His pants were smeared with blood and one leg had a disturbingly abnormal angle. The expression in his eyes was that of a haunted animal desperately fleeing a predator.

“Leon,” he screamed, his voice filled with desperation.

“ _Run_!”


	22. No Escape, No Hope

“Run away, Leon. You can’t fight this thing!”

The agent shifted his gaze from the injured agent and saw a monstrous creature, more beast than man, lift its hands high in the air while letting out a deep, rumbling roar. The sound made Harrison cringe and he hid his head in his arms. Leon however, had no intentions of baling out on his wounded friend. Lifting his gun, he ordered the beast to freeze.

“It won’t listen,” Harrison shouted. “I shot it and he didn’t even flinch. He jerked my gun out of my hands and bent the barrel. Then he… AAARGH.”

Leon shot Debilitas in the chest as he was about to give Harrison a deadly blow to the head. The beast looked up in surprise, touched the open wound and stared dumbfounded at the blood on his hands. Directing his attention to Leon, he growled angrily as he moved towards the American. Leon felt the floor vibrate under the giant’s enormous weight. Debilitas raised his hands, ready for another strike. Leon held his finger on the trigger. Both were ready to attack.

“LEON! What are you doing? You’re crazy. Get out of here while you still can!”

The desperate screams from Harrison confused Debilitas. His attention altered between his prey behind him and the threat in front of him. Leon used this to his advantage, readied his knife, leaped towards the creature, grabbed his shoulder, hoisted himself up and hit the blade hard between its scapula. It did the trick. The beast roared in pain and crumbled to the floor. Leon figured he must’ve struck a nerve, or maybe punctured a lung. A stunned Debilitas looked up at Leon with big, marble round eyes. The agent stared back. The shocked Harrison had crawled into a corner, trembling of horror and pain. Debilitas tried to rise, but a painful jolt shot through him, making him whimper. He had lost. Again. With his back hunched, he staggered down the stairs, crying out low, rumbling roars of agony. Leon rushed up to Harrison. There was no point in asking if he was okay, the fractured tibia protruding from blood-soaked pants meant he was not.

“He is gone, you’re gonna be okay, John.”

Harrison twitched. Every muscle in his body was tense and he’d started perspiring. The expression in his face was a clear indication of the agonizing pain he was in.

“Hey, John. Talk to me.”

“Was that… a-a… zo-zo-zombie?” Harrison stuttered through clenched teeth.

“No,” Leon responded. “Whatever it was, it was neither zombie nor ganado. He ran away coz he got scared. Zombies and ganados don’t get scared.”

Leon cut open the pant leg with his knife and assessed the injury. Though not immediately deadly, it was undoubtedly very serious. He was still bleeding, and his face had turned ghostly white. John was not going to be able to move around anymore tonight. Leon rose and checked the surrounding area, relieved to find a bed close by. He went back to Harrison and placed his arm around his friend’s back.

“C’mon, John. You gotta help me here.”

Harrison tried his best, but it was still Leon who got the most strenuous part. The men staggered into the adjacent room where Leon managed to place the wounded man on the bed. A fireplace was crisply burning to their left, but the shattered window behind them let the cool autumn breeze into the room, making Leon’s fringe move. The only sound was the loud ticking of a grandfather’s clock. The American stood over his friend watching him twitch in agony, dreading what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he bent down, and placed his hands on Harrison’s wounded leg, on each side of the fracture. The jutting bone had to be pulled back into place. The pain would be excruciating, but it had to be done. Leon locked eyes with the British detective.

“Ready?” he asked.

Harrison nodded, though no one is quite ready for something like this. With a firm grip, Leon pulled hard. Harrison’s back shot up, and a roar of pain louder than anything Leon had ever heard pierced the air and almost deafened him. Then it went silent. Unbearable pain had made Harrison lose consciousness.

Leon supported the injured leg with a pillow and tucked the bedspread over the British agent.

“You rest, my friend,” he said softly.

Stepping over to the fireplace to put more wood on the burning fire, he noticed a painting of a middle-aged man with intense eyes. He wondered if this was Aureolus Belli. He found some sheets in a drawer nearby and tried to cover up the shattered window the best he could. Most of the glass was on the outside, meaning the window had been broken from the inside. By the time he was finished, Harrison had regained consciousness.

“How are you feeling, bud? Can you speak?”

Harrison moved his half-closed eyes and saw a blurry image of a worried Leon in front of him. His skin had turned from white to grey. Drops of sweat lay strewn on his forehead and his sand-coloured hair was soaking wet.

“Peachy,” he lied, trying to cook a smile. It was barely a whisper.

“We have to get you to a hospital,” Leon insisted. Harrison shook his head.

“You need treatment,” he stated. “You’re seriously injured, and I don’t have as much as an aspirin.”

“And how… are we going to…do that, my fr-iend,” Harrison stuttered. He had difficulty speaking. “The nearest…hospital is over… two hours away from here. And the front door is… locked, remember. We entered through… a tu-tunnel underground. How are you going to… get me out?”

Leon sighted. His friend had a point. Leaning over the Interpol agent again, he spoke.

“Just hang in there. I’ll go and see if I can find a way out.”

Harrison grabbed his jacket. His eyes were wide. “What if it comes back? I… don’t have… any… weapon.”

Leon took out his pistol and ammo and left it on the bed. “Here, use my gun. I’ll be fine with the knife. I won’t be long, I promise.” Harrison nodded.

Leon headed out a door. After a few minutes, he came back with a disappointing look on his face.

“Found anything?” Harrison asked. Leon shook his head.

“The entry gate is right outside but there’s no way I can get it open without a key or four pounds of TNT. It seems they are breeding and butchering animals on the property and I also found what looks like a dog training area. Other than that, there’s nothing of interest outside.”

Leon retrieved the engraved plate from his pocket and showed it to Harrison. “You were right. She is here. Or at least was.” Harrison’s eyes lit up.

“Then you have… to… find her.”

Leon looked from the plate to Harrison and back again. The girl might be in danger as well and he had to save her, but it felt wrong to leave a wounded friend.

“You can’t… get me out anyway. You can do pretty much anything Leon Scott… Kennedy, but not even you can get me through that… well. You have to find another way out.” He patted Leon’s gun. “I’ll be fine. We’ll use the radio to communicate.” Leon started to rise. The British agent grabbed his sleeve.

“Leon, find the girl. And be careful. This… place. Something is… wrong. The soup in the kitchen… there was… there was… I saw…” He held his gaze.

“Save her.”

Leon nodded.

~*~

Despite being hundreds of years old, almost every room in the castle were immaculately clean, meaning there had to be people around. At first glance, it appeared to be like any other ancient, medieval castle, and except for the beast earlier, there had been no imminent threats. And no Fiona Belli. Though he had seen signs of recent struggle. It was the small things that gave the place its eerie atmosphere. Dolls nailed to the wall, what looked like human hair in a pot on the kitchen stove, dining room table filled with candlesticks, blood smeared pillars, the statue in the music room, the oddly placed bench…

Just one more area to check out, a scruffy looking shed in the northeast corner of the estate. He pushed open the door, and slowly stepped into the shack and a wall of pungent air. Canned gods were placed on shelves to his left, and he could hear grunting at the other end. He readied his knife and walked through the passage, his back tracing the wall. Harrison’s attacker was at the other end, facing an altar. When noticing Leon, he let out a holler of fear and crawled into a corner, covering his face with his hands. Now _his_ eyes were those of a hunted animal. Leon put the knife back and raised his palms. The creature was still shivering from fear.

“Easy,” he said in a soft voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Debilitas went silent. Lowering his hands, he stared at the stranger in front of him with marble eyes. Perhaps he had understood Leon’s words, or maybe it was just the calm, friendly tone in his voice. His shoulders lowered. He picked up a ripped apart doll, and like a small child, he hugged the torn fabric to his chest, rocking his body back and forth. Leon smiled what he hoped to be an assuring smile, and with slow motions, he retrieved a photo of Fiona from his back pocket. He could see recognition in the giant’s eyes and then the creature took a deep bow, his head touching the ground.

“Do you know who this is?” Leon prompted. “Have you seen her?”

Debilitas looked at Leon and then back at the photo.

“Fi-oh-na,” he grunted. Leon felt his pulse rise.

“Fi-ona,” he repeated, taking another bow.

“Good,” Leon said with an approving nod, put the photo back and left the area. The creature climbed onto a filthy bed and was already snoring when Leon closed the door.

 ~*~

To get to higher ground, Leon climbed one short and one long ladder, studied the surroundings when reaching the top. He could see a manor in the distance, and beside him was a device with a mirror in its centre, reflecting the moonlight. He turned on his audio-visual communication device and called for Harrison, hoping the Interpol agent was still awake. He answered immediately.

“Hey, John. It’s Leon. How are you feeling?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, pal. I found some medicine and I feel much better now. How’s the search going?”

“Medicine?” Leon asked in surprise. “You didn’t mention any medicine earlier. What sort of medicine?”

“Just some pills and powder I found in the restroom earlier. Some kinds of alchemic brewery that -” he flipped the boxes to read the description, “calms the nerves and restores stamina.”

“Does this… _medicine_ have a name?”

Harrison flipped the boxes again. “Eh, Quies, Sedation, Recreatio -”

Leon interrupted him before he had time to read the last label. Though Harrison’s skin had changed from ghostly grey to slightly pale and he didn’t struggle to speak any more, Leon wasn’t relying on medieval quackery to cure such a serious injury.

“Be careful with that stuff. We got no idea how it works, how old it is or if there are any side effects.”

“Fine,” Harrison agreed. “But the pain’s almost gone, and my pulse is much calmer now. If the pain comes back, I will take more. The search?”

“There are areas with signs of struggle, but I haven’t found the girl or any possible abductors. She’s been here all right, but she must’ve been moved. There’s a building north of here. I’m gonna find a way to get over there and have a look around. And John, about what you said earlier. You’re right. Something about this place doesn’t feel right. But at least you don’t have to worry about that giant anymore.”

“You killed him?”

“No, but he’s no threat,” he replied, turned off the radio, climbed down and started heading west. Rounding a corner, he spotted a lever next to a wooden gate. He pulled the handle and the gate went up. Leon crossed through the now open gate and recognized the area where he’d first entered. He’d searched the whole castle. What now? A purple-bluish glow in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Leon turned and noticed several glowing bugs to his right. They appeared to be drifting into the void beyond. He stepped over a few rocks that had loosened from a low stone barrier and started following the glowing bugs into the night, following the lilac fireflies through a dark pathway going underground. The only light besides the shining creatures came from square-shaped holes in the wall. After a few minutes, the path was going uphill, and Leon noticed the bugs disappearing through tiny cracks in the stone ceiling. He kicked away some loose rocks, which caused the roof to collapse, and he had to spend five minutes digging his way out. When he eventually managed to stumble out of the passage, he landed on wet grass and nearly smacked his head into a stone. Quick on his feet, he saw how the bugs vanished into thin air. He had ended up in what looked like a graveyard surrounded by a three-story building with ruby colored windows. A stone wall was blocking the path behind him. As he checked the inscription on the gravestones, he got more and more puzzled. He clicked on his radio.

“John, are you there?”

“Hello my friend. How’s the search going?” Harrison answered in a cheerful tone. All color had returned to his face.

“John?”

“Look man, this stuff is amazing! I tried those Recreatio pills and all the pain is gone. It’s like I feel the tissue healing itself. At this rate, my leg will be fully healed in six hours instead of six weeks!”

“Just _how_ much of this stuff have you been taking, John?”

Harrison placed his hand to his chin and gazed up into the ceiling. “Hmm, two, three… maybe five…”

“I told you to be careful with that stuff,” Leon sighted. Harrison returned his attention to the screen. “The pain might be gone, but you’re still seriously injured. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve rescued Fiona and found a way out. In the meantime, I suggest you try to get some rest.”

“It might be a little too late for that…”

“ _What_?”

Harrison glowed. “I didn’t feel like lying in that chilly room anymore, so I started moving around, checking out the area,” he said eagerly. “And I found a room that’s filled with old books, notes, scribbles, formulae, computations and whatnot.” His eyes scanned the surroundings. “I wonder what sort of research has been conducted here.”

Leon frowned. “And how exactly did you manage to move around with that leg?”

The English detective lit up again. “I used the floor lamp next to the bed as a crutch.”

“You did _what_?”

“Yep, that’s what I did.” He raised a hand high in the air. “Because I’ve been cuuuured! Well, almost.”

“Are you _high_?”

Harrison lowered his hand again. “No,” he sighted. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just happy to be free from that unbearable pain, that’s all. Look, as I said, there are tons of books and stuff in this room and though most are in Latin, Italian and something I think might be Sanskrit, there are some literature here in French and English as well. I might be able to find out something useful.”

Leon resigned. “Sounds good. I’m glad you’re feeling better, John. I’m just worried about you.”

Almost forgetting why he’d called in the first place, Leon’s eyes wandered his surroundings. “Hey, you think you can dig up anything on Aureolus Belli?”

“The last known lord of the castle? I guess.”

“I followed some purple glowing bugs through a secret passage outside the room with that strange, pregnant statue and I ended up in a graveyard where all the stones are engraved with Aureolus Belli. But the dates span over at least five hundred years! What do you make of that?”

Harrison looked puzzled and thrilled at once. “Hard to say. But you remember my theory about cloning?”

“For the last five hundred years?”

“Yeah, I know. Strange. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Good. In the meantime, I’ll check out this area. According to the GPS, this is the mansion north of the castle I was talking about.” With that, Leon turned off the radio and headed to the east wing.

After twenty minutes of searching through the labyrinth of hallways, he’d seen signs of struggle in the restroom, found some hideous models of prehistoric creatures, and discovered two corpses, one heavily tortured. The hidden torture room behind a child’s carousel deeply troubled him. His concern for Fiona’s safety grew. One more place to check in the southeast area. The agent leaped over a gap on the second level where a part of the floor had been lowered to serve as a viaduct over a pool of water below. When landing on the other side, his feet hit broken glass. This mirror, like all others he’d seen in this building, was shattered in pieces. In the next room, he jumped over the railing of a u-shaped walkway and down to the greenhouse floor. The flowers came in many different colors and were constantly watered. In the flowerbed holding only white-blossomed flowers, Leon noticed one plant had recently been ripped out. He skimmed through a spreadsheet with information about the plants and called up Harrison once more.

“How are you doing, John? Still no pain?”

“I’m great,” the Englishman said with a smile. It was hard to imagine that less than an hour ago, he’d been screaming in agony. “I haven’t found much about the castle’s lord yet, but there’s loads of entries about _ethereal energy_ and _the Philosopher’s Stone_. And I think I might know the name of those bugs you mentioned. Luminessants.”

“Luminescent?”

“No, luminessants. Tiny creatures that are attracted to something called Azoth.”

“Azoth? What’s that?”

Harrison shrugged. “No idea. Never heard of it before. I’ll try to dig up some more info about that too.”

“Good,” Leon said and shifted his attention to the plants. “Hey John. Your mother’s a botanist, right?”

“Yeah,” Harrison confirmed. “How come?”

“I’m in a greenhouse now and…”

“A greenhouse? Here?!”

“Well, yeah. The flowers growing here are called _Mandragora_. Heard of it?”

“Mandrake? Yeah, sure.”

“Anything special ‘bout that plant?”

Harrison thought for a moment, and then he spoke, “the Mandrake, or Mandragora, belongs to the nightshades family I believe. They are native to southern and central Europe, and the plants have often been used in magic rituals because the roots look like a tiny human. In fact, I think they’re still being used in neopagan religions today. Wicca and such.”

“Really?” Leon stretched out a hand to pull one out.

“No!” Harrison shouted. “Don’t touch. They’re poisonous!”

Leon’s hand stopped in mid-air. “You’re right. It says here that the leaves are poisonous. Thanks for the heads up, mate.”

“All parts of the mandrake plant are poisonous,” Harrison corrected. ”They contains deliriant hallucinogenic drugs such as atropine, or belladonna as it is also called. The same stuff that eye doctors drip in your eyes to dilate the pupils, hence the name.” His mother had told him this after a visit to the eye doctor when he was a kid.

“Belladonna being Italian for _beautiful woman_ ,” Leon guessed. “But why a whole greenhouse full?”

“No idea, mate. But whoever these people are, and whatever the reason may be, I doubt their intentions are pure.”

“Yeah, I second that. Talk to you later. Leon out.”

Leon slipped the radio back in its holster and hasted back to the graveyard. Creepy-looking dolls the size of small children seemed to follow his every move.

“I sure hope Fiona is okay,” he mumbled to himself. The thought of the young girl wandering around this evil place, alone and petrified, was disconcerting to say the least. He wondered if she knew that her parents were dead. Moreover, what did these people want with her?

“Don’t you worry Fiona. I’m coming for you,” Leon spoke into the empty air. He didn’t allow himself to consider the possibility that she might already be dead.

Leon entered the mansion’s west wing through a wide-open gate, moved up a staircase and into a red-lit hallway separated into several smaller sections by iron barriers. Inside one of them, a naked man was sitting on a chair. Holding his face in his palms, he was crying without a sound.

“Um, excuse me, sir,” Leon said. “Are you all right?” No response. Leon tried again, repeating what he’d just said. Still no response. Leon shrugged, “I guess there’s no point in showing _this_ guy the photograph.”

From an arched walkway, he could see a large door on the floor below. He jumped down and hasted up to the sturdy gate. Like before, it was securely shut. Furthermore, there was no keyhole. Instead, there was yet another riddle etched into the wood. Leon started to get real tired of wandering around like this and not actually getting anywhere. He turned and walked through a doorway to the right of an ivory statue holding a set of scales, and into another eerily red-glowing hallway. At the other end was a disgusting sight of a naked creature all four licking up a slimy smear on the floor, whose content Leon didn’t want to think of. There was a closed door on the other side of an iron fence. When Leon opened it, several small, fetus-like creatures skipped out from the room behind, bouncing and dancing down the hall, jolly as hell. He peeked inside and saw several containers with broken glass and a creature banging its head into the wall.

“Man, this place is messed up,” Leon mumbled, shaking his head and closing the door.

“And I thought the Los Illuminados were crazy,” he added after seeing a fully-grown woman inside a big-ass incubator a few minutes later.

Leon kicked up a solid iron door and entered a cylinder-shaped shaft with a spiral staircase traveling all the way up to the roof. Deciding to start on the top, he hasted up the stairs and crossed a passageway over to a building separated from the main house. An iron armor was guarding a massive wooden door. Leon guessed that at one point, the large arrow lying in the water at the bottom of the shaft, or well or whatever the hell it was, had been fired from that very armor. Crossing the door, he had a great view of what had to be a library. The stains of blood below made his heart sink. He jumped over the railing and quickly swept the area. A steep staircase was descending from the library to a maze of underground catacombs, and an intense struggle had been going on inside a small room adjacent to the library main hall. Climbing up to the catwalk again, he crossed his fingers he wasn’t too late to save Fiona. He kicked up another door of solid wood and entered the upper floor, wondering why _these_ doors were all locked. Upstairs, a macabre sight met the agent. In the center of a glass plate surrounded by four cubes, the body of a smiling woman had been pinned to the floor by a giant shard of glass. Leon gazed upwards. The ceiling had been shattered and pieces of glass lay strewn around the body. Leon felt for a pulse, though he knew he wouldn’t find any. The woman looked to be in her later twenties and judging by the clothes she was wearing, she was one of the castle’s maids. Though her skin had several cuts and lesions, one of her hands looked like a clump of meat, and her lips had the color of raw liver, Leon could tell that she’d been a very beautiful woman. His concern for Fiona’s safety grew even more. While the other bodies in the building were probably hundreds of years old, this woman had died only a short time ago. Her body was still warm.

He moved down to the second floor and headed through a torch-lit corridor with iron cages to the north. Though it was very dark, he couldn’t see any sign of a prisoner, dead or alive. He passed a strange machine like the ones he’d seen on the lower floors, engraved with similar nonsense rubbish. Just as he was about to round a corner, the door in front of him opened. Leon quickly hid and kneeled in a corner. Out came a middle-aged man carrying an unconscious girl. The suspect started walking south down the hallway, failing to notice the special agent crouching in the shadows. Leon pulse rose. He was almost certain it was Fiona Belli, but he had to be sure. There was also something familiar about the unknown male. With no gun, and no idea what kind of weapon the suspect might be carrying, he decided to lay low. He counted to ten and then started to trace the man’s footsteps, staying forty to fifty yards behind. The suspicious man headed to the first floor, through a long corridor and around a corner. Leon waited a bit before rounding the same corner and moved through an arched walkway the fastest he dared. Back in the vestibule with the mansion entrance, he realized he had lost them. But now, the gate was open. Hasting outside and down a staircase, he crouched behind a stone railing and brought out his binoculars, ignoring the creature scratching its head half way up the stairs. After a quick scan of the area, he spotted the man and the unconscious girl on a stone bridge between thick vegetation. A white canine was tracing his steps a few yards behind. When zooming in, he confirmed the identity of the girl. It was, beyond doubt, Fiona Belli. When zooming in on the suspect, Leon’s heart sped up. Wasn’t that…? Impossible! The man disappeared behind a bush, and Leon hasted after them. Too late. After passing the bridge, he came just in time to watch an underground passage close, nearly snapping of the white animal’s tale in the process. He tried to open the trapdoor, but it was stuck. Taking out the binoculars again, he scanned the surroundings. The suspect might be taking the girl to a tower in the middle of that lake. There were no signs of a bridge or a boat anywhere along the lakeside. A shiver went through him as he recalled the last time he had to cross a rural lake.

“Great!” Leon nearly spat out the word. He removed the binoculars.

“What now?”

~*~

For the seventh time in half an hour, Fiona crawled out of a makeshift hiding spot behind a stack of barrels in the basement of the water tower. Or was it the eight? She had lost count. Her legs were shaking, and she had been throwing up. She had tried to escape the water tower again and again, but it was hopeless. The cramp in her stomach resurfaced and her upper body jerked forward. It felt like her insides was coming up as she gagged and spat out drops of bile. The green fluid mixed with saliva and snot. A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away with her sleeve. Her head spinning, she sank down against one of the barrels. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, and her oesophagus was burning. Hewie sat down next to the exhausted girl, gently licking her face. She thought she had found the _magisterium_ , but there was a large gap in the pathway above, and in order to cross this gaping hole and get to the top of the tower, she would have to pull a lever on the third floor. But _he_ was always around, following her every move, chasing her, stopping her. She could sense him, hear and smell him, feel his breath on her skin, but she never saw him except for when he did a sudden, jerky movement. Hewie tensed, every muscle in his canine body going rigid as he started sneering at a point in front of him. The sneer developed into a deep, guttural growl, and then turned into intense barking. Fiona lifted her head. Though she saw no one, she recognised the footsteps. And the smell. He was here. When the sound of footsteps faded, she estimated he was about four feet from where she was sitting. A familiar chuckle filled the void in front of her.

“You are quite the troublesome, young girl,” he sighted, and Fiona could picture him shaking his head. She wanted to run, but her feet refused to move. Instead, she tried to crawl. The chuckle turned to sinister laughter.

“Why do you keep trying, Fiona?” He sounded calm. Full of self-confidence. “There’s nowhere to run, no place to hide. You might as well give up and accept your destiny. _You_ _are_ going to give birth to me.”

The words hit Fiona like a blow to the stomach. She stopped crawling.

“ _What?!_ ”

“I will be born again!” His form appeared before Fiona, and she gasped in dread as he yanked his gun out from his hooded sweater and aimed it at the canine.

“Get that mutt to shut up!” he barked. Fiona wondered if the sudden rage and mood swings were a result of his emotionally unstable character, or if it was a part of a cunning plan to mentally break her down. The semi-transparent man locked his gaze with the girl.

“I mean it, Fiona,” he said, his voice calm again. Looking at Hewie, the young woman shook her head. “No, Hewie,” she whispered. The dog went silent, but his brown eyes never left the sinful creature that had once been his master. Riccardo nodded approvingly.

“Good Fiona,” he smirked, still aiming at Hewie. “And from now on, you’ll do as _I_ say. If you would just lend me your womb, I’ll let you both live. Defy me once more, and I’ll blow the mutt’s head off.”

Fiona’s eyes widened. She could not believe what he was asking of her, this man that looked exactly like her father, walked like him, sounded like him, but still was nothing like him at all. _This_ man had no heart.

“Let me into your womb, or the dog dies! Answer me! _Now_.”

Fiona looked into Hewie’s brown eyes and saw love, devotion and concern. The dog would die for her. Knowing she had no choice, she turned to the barely visible figure in front of her.

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t hurt Hewie, please,” she begged.

Riccardo sniggered. An evil grin crept over his scarred face.

“Good girl.”

Her stomach turned.


	23. From the Water Tower to the House of Truth

The sound of water drops hitting the basement floor echoed through the narrow hallway. The pipes inside the water tower had rusted long time ago and there were leaks everywhere. To Fiona’s ears, the noise was deafening.

“Come with me, Fiona,” Riccardo smirked. He stretched out his arm and moved his fingers so that Fiona could see him, but the poor child was scared stiff and couldn’t move a muscle. Riccardo sighted. Though barely visible, Fiona could tell that his patience was about to run out.

“It’s over Fiona,” he concluded, moving closer. “Take my hand and come with me _now_.”

 

It all went down so fast. Within a blink of an eye, Riccardo went from being the one in charge with full control over the situation, to staggering over the floor, screaming in shock and pain. With round eyes and open jaw, he stared at the knife protruding from his blood-smeared palm. He had to lean against the wall for a moment. The unexpected event had made him drop his gun. Fiona’s body was clenched against the barrels. Hewie started barking again. Riccardo’s nostrils widened. Breathing heavily, he instinctively pressed hard on his wrist to limit the blood flow to his wounded hand.

“You leave her alone!”

Three heads turned. Riccardo was half expecting to see a young Lorenzo, but the man emerging from the darkness was a stranger. An American. Who was this intruder, and how had he managed to find this place? Knowing he’d lost control over the situation, Riccardo thought it best to retreat. For now. He yanked the knife out of his hand and threw it at the stranger who easily dodged the flying weapon. Then he leaped over the floor, snatched up his gun and bolted down the tunnel, ignoring the blood oozing from his hand.

“Stop!” Leon called out and started chasing him. A minute later, he walked back to Fiona and the canine, his chin pointing downwards. He couldn’t believe this middle-aged man had out-runned him. The suspect did have a good twenty yards head start, but still - it was like he’d been on speed or something. He’d escaped through a door at the end of the pathway and locked it behind him. He’d deal with him later. He’d finally found the missing girl. Getting her, and John, to safety was now his utmost priority.

 

Barefoot and with legs tucked up against her chest, Fiona was still sitting on the cold and moist floor when Leon returned. Her canine companion was sniffing the air and tilting his head, as if trying to place Leon amongst the good or the bad. In an effort to come off as non-threatening as possible, the government agent raised his palms and inched towards the terror-struck girl.

“Fiona,” he said in a soft and reassuring tone. “He’s gone, you’re safe now. Everything is going to be all right. My name is Leon. I’m here to take you home.”

Fiona’s jade eyes were glued to the stranger in front of her, but she said nothing. He carefully stepped up to the trembling woman and crouched next to her. Fiona’s body flinched. Leon raised his hands and backed away a little.

“Calm down, Fiona. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He removed his jacket and put it over the woman’s shoulders. The watchful Alsatian didn’t object, but he was prepared to act at any moment. A million questions were burning inside him, but at this point, Fiona was in no condition to talk. The poor girl was trembling of horror and cold and Leon could only imagine what she’d been through these last twenty-four hours. Being bombarded with questions was the last thing she needed right now. Which is why Leon asked only the most important one. The rest would have to wait.

“Are you unharmed?” He noticed the bandage on her thigh and frowned. “Can you walk?”

Her gaze held, but she offered no response. On his last rescue mission, he’d immediately gained the abducted girl’s trust. This time however, it wouldn’t be so easy. Fiona’s eyes darted to the white German Shepherd, busy sniffing Leon’s pant leg.

“Hi there, buddy,” Leon said to the canine and let the animal’s snout brush over his fingertips. The Alsatian barked and then he started wagging his tail happily from side to side. Leon could’ve sworn he saw a glimpse of recognition in his kind, brown eyes. The girl seemed to be a bit more relaxed now, that the German Shepherd had accepted him. He stroked the animal’s fur and scratched his ears. In response, the dog licked his jaw.

“Is this your dog?” he asked Fiona with laughter in his voice. “I bet he’s been looking out for you, eh? What’s his name?”

Fiona’s lips parted, her mouth shivering. “Hewie,” she stuttered. “His name… is… Hewie.”

“Hewie, what a nice name,” he replied, patting the German Shepherd. “Hi there, Hewie.”

Fiona’s shoulders dropped. Pulling Leon’s jacket tight around her petite figure, she once again locked eyes with the young American.

“Thank… you.”

Leon offered a quick smile. Anxious to deliver the good news to Harrison, he unhooked the radio and switched it on. He was about to announce that he’d _succeeded in extricating the subject,_ but the pale young woman looking at him with her almond-shaped, stunning ocean eyes made him hesitate. He couldn’t bring himself to refer to her as simply a _subject_. And what the hell, this was John he was talking to, not Hunnigan. Screw the etiquette. His index pressed the ‘speak’ button.

“John, I’ve found her, alive and in one piece.”

“Jolly good work, mate,” his companion cheerfully replied. Fiona’s brows rose upon hearing the accent.

“Now stay where you are. We’ll be with you in no time,” Leon said before clicking off.

“That was my partner, John,” he explained, rising to his feet. He then offered his hand to Fiona.

“The door at the end of this trail is locked so we have to find another way out of here.”

“But… how did _you_ cross the lake?” she asked in bewilderment.

“With a tree trunk,” Leon replied. “And with a branch as an oar. But the thing’s wobbly as hell and I almost fell in more times than I was willing to count. There’s no way I can use it to get you two safely across the lake.”

Fiona stuck her hand inside Leon’s jacket and fished out two pieces of torn, yellowish paper that she’d hidden under her dress and handed them over to Leon.

“It’s a map of the building and instructions on how to get out of here,” she explained. “From someone named Lorenzo. He has been helping me through… this.”

Leon read the note and studied the map. “Have you met this Lorenzo?”

“No, but I have received several notes from him with tips on how to… proceed. I think he lives in the house over there.” She was pointing at a spot on the wall behind her. Leon remembered a building near the lakeside when he’d climbed of the tree trunk.

“You have any idea what this _magisterium_ is?”

Fiona disappeared behind a stack of barrels and returned with three items, a small bronze statue, a silver disc and a minuscule model of a wooden bridge.

“It has to be one of these. There is nothing else down here. I have searched everywhere.”

Leon sighted. Then they would have to bring all three with them. He picked up his blood-smeared knife and put the items inside a brown leather bag attached to his belt. The attaché case was meant to carry handgun bullets and was quite small. There was barely room for all three items.

“Why can’t these people use normal words?” he mumbled to himself. Even the few notes written in English were packed with nonsense rubbish.

They headed through the hallway and up a narrow flight of stairs. Leon went first to make sure it was safe to proceed, while Fiona and Hewie followed a couple of steps behind. Fiona was constantly turning her head, anxiously glancing over her shoulder. Leon took note of her body language. They took a pause next to a sink where Leon washed dried blood of his knife and Fiona used the opportunity to splash cold water on her tired face.

“I must look awful,” she thought to herself, wishing she could freshen up a bit. The huge door to their right where Leon had entered fifteen minutes earlier was still open. They walked straight past it, since they both knew it was a dead end and instead, ascended a coiled, metal pathway. Green moss covered the wall to their right, and seaweed hung from a round centred portion above. Fiona studied the man in front of her. Of course she was wondering who he and his partner were, which agency they represented, how they had found her and a zillion other things, but the relief of finally being found had won over curiosity. But there was one thing she had to know right away.

“Leon?” she spoke. The agent turned but didn’t stop walking. “Where are we? Where _is_ this place?”

“Italy,” he enlightened. “A region called Piedmont. It’s a tree hour drive to Turin from here.”

Fiona felt uneasy. Italy. She’d already figured _that_ much, but this area was more isolated than she’d thought. Even if she _had_ managed to run away from Riccardo, she would likely have ended up wandering aimlessly around the thick forest for days before collapsing of hunger or dying of hypothermia. Whoever this American was, she was grateful that he was there with them. She would learn his role in this soon enough. All she wanted now was to get out of here as soon as possible.

“A part of the path is missing.” Fiona pointed straight ahead. “That’s why I couldn’t reach the top.”

The gap in the walkway was about teen feet in length. Leon thought he might be able to jump over, but Fiona and Hewie could certainly not. His eyes scanned the area.

“Maybe we can proceed if we pull that lever over there,” he said, gazing upwards.

“Yes, I know. I tried several times, but… _he_ stopped me every time.”

Leon was curious as to who this ’ _he_ ’ was, and what Fiona knew about him, but he feared that if he started asking questions about the man that looked exactly like her father, she would crawl back into her shell again. He couldn’t afford losing her confidence now as she was just starting to open up. He would have to choose his word carefully.

“He’s not here now,” Leon said to her in as neutral of a tone as possible.

“No, not now, but he will come back,” Fiona responded. “I-I know he will.”

“Maybe. Then we make sure we’re not here when he shows up.” Leon pulled the lever and the portion below them moved 90° counter-clockwise.

Two floors later, Leon spotted another gap higher up, and he headed up a side path to pull another lever. Fiona and Hewie followed close behind. She asked him if he knew anything about her aunts. Ayla Belli’s two sisters and their demented mother was the only family she had left. _What had John said again?_

“They’re fine, but they’re worried about you and want you home again.”

Fiona swallowed. “Leon. Do you really think we can… escape this place?”

Leon pulled the lever and a section above shifted. “We’re gonna get out all right. _He_ may have gotten you into this mess, but I’m going to get you out of it.”

It had worked on Ashley, but Fiona didn’t look convinced. She lowered her head. “He told me that my parents are dead,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Is it true?”

Leon inhaled deeply. His own mother and father flashing before him. He wanted to say something to her to make the sorrow go away. But he knew there was nothing he could say, or do, to relieve her pain. This was one of those rare occasions where Leon S. Kennedy was lost for words.

“Fiona, I’m really sorry-”

Fiona interrupted him. “I already knew. I was just hoping - I was… there,” she stuttered. Her lips had started trembling again. “In the car. He… _he_ killed my fa…my fa…”

Leon grabbed her shoulders. “Fiona, _he_ _will not_ get away with this. He is going to pay for what he did. To you _and_ your parents. I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”

The determination in Leon’s voice calmed Fiona down. Her jade eyes stared intensely into his steel grey. Her soft, blonde curls mixed with the sheepskin on his jacket. On her, it looked like an over-sized coat. The young girl was still in her teens, but in her deep green eyes, he saw wisdom and insight he’d never seen in anyone under the age of 30. She looked heartbroken and exhausted, her lips were colorless and her skin was almost translucent. Still, she was the most beautiful woman Leon had ever laid eyes on.

Fiona eventually responded, and after a deep breath, she was calm and composed again. Leon was amazed. So strong but still so vulnerable, so strong-willed and yet so fragile. To say that she fascinated him was an understatement. He’d never met _anyone_ like her before.

On the upper level, the purple bugs were back, dancing around the centre plate. Leon didn’t think much of it until he noticed Fiona’s reaction. With an _oh shit_ expression on her face, she she carefully stepped towards the center. The bugs immediately responded to her presence, gradually gliding through the air in Fiona’s direction. The young girl started walking backwards against the wall and the glowing bugs followed. Leon watched closely. After a few more steps, she cleverly dodged the luminessants by quickly darting to the other side of the walkway, hasting forward, anxious to get over to the other side. She even called out for Leon to hurry. The American agent looked a question at her.

“They’re drawn to me,” she said over her shoulder. Leon still looked like a question mark and opened his mouth to speak. Fiona’s eyes begged him not to ask.

A high-pitched sound pierced their ears as they entered the seventh floor. Hewie tensed, uncomfortable with the place and the noise. On the floor, a thick metal frame encircled a gigantic map of the solar systems, various constellations and numerous occult symbols on an azure background. Different shaped

gearwheels were attached to the surrounding wall. Leon picked up the silver disc and they studied the plate. Fiona recognized most of the constellations, but there were no planets engraved on the disc.

“Let’s have a look around,” Leon suggested.

They walked along the edge alongside the planetary alignment. Leon stopped next to an engraved meal plate radiating blue letters. The writing was in Old Italian. Fiona translated without too much problems. _All life on the surface of the planet stretches out below the star’s radiant light. All of the events played out on the surface of the planet are coloured by the star’s never-ending travels. The true miracle will only occur when the stars that guide universal destiny are linked as one. The planets have been arranged in the following order from the outside in: Saturnus, Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, Mercury and Luna. All of the planets revolve around the centre of the universe, the great planet Tierra. Begin the celestial chain from the furthest edge of the universe, Saturnus. However, the path to enlightenment is not singular in nature. Proceed forward with alternate routes in mind._

“Great. Another riddle.” Fiona thought it. Leon said it aloud. “Saturnus…”

Fiona found the Saturnus symbol on the other side of the alignment. Putting weight on the symbol made another blue sphere lit up, but as soon as she stepped off, the light vanished. Stepping on it again, Leon walked over to the shining orb while Fiona remained on the Saturnus symbol. A third sphere blinked to life and Fiona hasted over to it. A fourth planet lit up, and Hewie, who had figured out what they were trying to do, sat down on the glowing sphere. They continued doing so until the eighth and last orb, the Earth, lit up. Leon stepped on it, then Fiona and finally Hewie. Standing in the middle of the model of the outdated, Geocentric solar system, the trio watched how the sun, moon and planets assembled in a straight line with the Earth in the middle. The floor started shaking as a spiral staircase with black railing slowly descended from the ceiling with a deep, crushing sound. Leon grabbed Fiona’s arm and they moved away. While Leon had his full attention on the lowering staircase, Fiona gazed up at him and allowed herself a good look at the American agent. She studied his jawline, his slightly crooked nose and his floppy haircut and she unconsciously drew a hand through her unwashed hair. Her eyes lowered to his torso and abdomen. Judging by his figure, he was in a very good shape, the exercising-evert-day kind of good shape. She tucked a curl behind her ear. Her cheeks prickled and her palms felt clammy. She could really use a shower right about now. And a brush and a hair dryer. Maybe some makeup as well.

The hidden staircase settled and Fiona’s sudden self-consciousness about her appearance vanished.

In front of them was the entry to the top of the water tower and Fiona lit up in a big smile. A thousand butterflies went flying in Leon’s stomach. A sudden, overwhelming and totally unexpected sensation, a forgotten feeling. However, this was neither the time nor the place. If he let his feelings take control of his mind, the consequences could be fatal. He had to focus on the mission. He shook it off and told Fiona and Hewie to follow. They went up the spiral staircase, through a door an out to a small, circular balcony. The view was great. There was a large building travelling along the lakeside and they could see one of the castle’s towers, but there were only thick forest and mountains in the horizon. On the other side was a minuscule diorama of the nearby area with the tower, the lake and the building. The _magisterium_ had to be the miniature bridge. Leon fished out the wooden miniature and placed it between the tower and the house. Again, the ground started shaking, but this time more violently, like an earthquake. Stepping over to the edge, they saw a bridge emerging from the water.

“Let’s get down so we can leave this bloody tower,” Leon said. Fiona and Hewie couldn’t agree more.

~*~

The trio started running towards the exit when Leon and Hewie came to an abrupt halt. The agent shot out his hand to stop Fiona and they took two steps back. Leon readied the knife and Hewie started barking. Fiona’s eyes flickered nervously around whilst Leon and Hewie’s gaze held firmly on the door. They were obviously seeing something she didn’t. Fiona’s heart dropped.

“She’s mine. I won’t let you take her away!”

“Sorry to have to disappoint you, but Fiona is coming with me,” Leon replied cooly to the male blocking the door, holding a large sheath. His outfit was smeared in blood from when Leon had impaled his hand with the knife. Leon’s eyes narrowed as he locked gaze with the smirking bastard. Fiona was shivering behind him. He could tell the young girl was terrified. The man in front of him removed a massive, double-bladed sword from its holster. The two blades had been intertwined and appeared as one.

“Fiona, step back!” Leon ordered. The terrified girl quickly backed and almost tripped over the railing. Her heart nearly stopped, and the shock caused her to fall to the ground. The wall was in a terrible state and several stones had loosened. It was a true miracle that she hadn’t fallen. She raised her head and saw Riccardo swinging something at Leon, who quickly dodged the attack, using his wounded hand as if nothing had happened. Fiona gasped. The double-bladed sword. The very same one he’d used to…

The girl and the canine backed away from the fight. Riccardo took another swing with Leon elegantly moving out of the blade’s path. Clearly not his first rodeo. Determined, Riccardo attacked once again, but this time with his fists. Leon’s knife cut through his arm and fresh blood oozed down his sleeve. Taking no notice, Riccardo hit Leon hard in the stomach and the agent stumbled backwards. Riccardo stood over his opponent and raised his sword, ready to pierce his heart while Leon was using his knife to hold the sword back the best he could. He wouldn’t last long. Leon might be better trained, but Riccardo had more powerful weapon. Moreover, it was as if he’d gotten superhuman strengths all of a sudden. Fiona hurried over to the attaché case and retrieved the two remaining items. The bronze figure was heavier. She hurled it at Riccardo and hit his head. The brief distraction gave Leon the chance to kick Riccardo away. Relief surged through Fiona’s body.

“Leon, are you…”

“Run Fiona!”

“What?”

“Take the dog with you and take cover in that building. Wait for me there.”

“But I…”

“Fiona, NOW!”

Fiona did as he said and together with Hewie, she hasted back into the tower. Leon held his knife ready combat style and watched Riccardo rise to his feet.

“Who are you and what do you want with Fiona?” he called out.

Riccardo chuckled. “ _I_ … am… Riccardo Belli.” For each word he spoke, he took one step closer to Leon.

“The girl is mine. She belongs to me. She will make me… _complete_.”

Leon stepped back. Not because he feared a confrontation, but because he wanted him to keep talking. He wanted Riccardo to reveal as much as possible, and for that to happen, he had to provoke him. The resemblance to Ugo Belli was striking.

“You kidnapped Fiona and killed her parents. You murdered your own brother.”

Riccardo started laughing. “Young man, you really have no idea what is going on, do you? And you have no business being here. You’ve trespassed private property and now you’re going to pay with your life.”

Leon raised one brow. How could he be so cold? “You’re telling me Ugo Belli is not your twin brother?”

Riccardo stopped. “If you absolutely must know, Ugo and I are clones, reincarnations of Aureoles Belli, the greatest alchemist who has ever lived.”

“And you’re expecting me to believe that?”

“It is the truth. And now that Ugo is dead, _I_ am the original. I am… _Aureolus Belli_. I have been, am and always will be.”

“The only place you’ll ever _be_ is locked up in a nut house.”

Riccardo opened his mouth and let out loud bursts of insane, sinister laughter. “Ignorant fool. Do you really think you can beat _me_? As an alchemist, I have vast knowledge spanning from the beginning of time, and I possess immeasurable and enormous powers which do not need to obey the laws of nature. And thanks to the girl, I will be given eternal life. I will never die.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near her,” Leon sneered. His voice was ice cold.

“Enough!” Riccardo shouted and threw away his sword. Jumping high in the air, he landed on top of Leon, used his knee to pin the agent to the floor and placed both hands around his neck. After running away earlier, he’d retreated to his chamber in the mansion and drained a bottle of Bovis, a brewery much more potent than its base chemical, Fortis. Its name was derived from the Latin word for bull, and the concoction triples your strength and makes you virtually invincible for a short period. Leon had to use his full strength to prevent Riccardo from suffocating him. Riccardo pressed hard on Leon’s chest with his leg and breathing was getting more and more difficult. His vision blurred and he could feel the strength in his arms slowly ebbing out. His heart beating like crazy, he twitched and turned his head and shoulders in a desperate attempt to shake Riccardo off. The wall right next to them was virtually gone, and he caught a blurry glimpse of his jacket and a white dot flying across the bridge down below and into the building on the other side. Leon fought harder. John, Fiona and Hewie were counting on him. Through a hazy fog, he spotted a shiny item beside him. He shot out his arm, grabbed the silver disc and smacked it in Riccardo’s temple as hard as he could. The pressure on his neck and torso lifted. Leon’s body jerked up, he closed his fist and planted it on Riccardo’s nose. Hard. His leg shot out and he kicked the insane man in the stomach as hard as his weakened body would allow. It was enough. A stunned Riccardo stumbled backwards, blood dripping from his nose. There was no wall behind him. As he went over the edge, he screamed out Fiona’s name all the way to the ground.

Leon had to sit for a short moment and catch his breath. This wasn’t like him, but his chest and neck hurt like hell, his head was pounding, and white and blue dots flickered before his eyes. After a few deep breaths, his head cleared up and his vision returned to normal. He stepped over to the wall and peered over the edge. He saw water and stone. The fall had to be at least 30 feet. No one could survive a fall from this height. Hitting the water would be like hitting cement. Leon snorted. “So much for eternal life.”

He straightened his spine, returned to the tower and down the corkscrew staircase. While walking, he replayed the conversation with Riccardo in his head, Fiona’s peculiar behaviour when she’d spotted the glowing bugs earlier, and what John had said about the luminessants made Leon wonder if Riccardo’s words had been more than just crazy talk.

Either Riccardo had been a nutcase, or if what he’d said had been true, though nothing more than another greedy maniac craving for wealth and power, he could have proven to be very dangerous. Luckily, the threat was now eliminated.

~*~

He was almost down when he noticed the hole in the pathway. He backed up a bit, and then he ran at full speed, leaping over the gap. His fingers grabbed the edge and he had to pull himself up.

“Leon!”

The radio summed to life as he was struggling to climb up to the walkway.

“Hey Leon, are you there?”

After a few strenuous seconds, Leon was leaning against the wall, panting. He could hear the anxiety in Harrison’s voice and picked up the radio.

“Leon here.”

“Thank God, mate. For a second there, I was starting to get worried. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I was just… hanging.” Leon straightened and resumed walking. “Fiona is in a building across the lake. I’m heading over there now.”

“She’s not with you?! Why?”

“Long story. I’ll fill you in later. Anything new?”

“Yes. It wasn’t easy, but I finally found something about Azoth. You wanna hear it now?”

“Shoot.”

“Apparently it’s a measureless spirit of life. A 'universal medicine' or 'universal solvent' that is very much sought after in [alchemy](/wiki/Alchemy), even more so than The Philosopher’s Stone. Its symbol is the [Caduceus](/wiki/Caduceus) and apparently, the letters itself forms a unity of beginning and ending of all things by tying together the first and last letters of the alphabets of antiquity. A/Alpha/Alef -the first character of Roman, Greek & Hebrew, Z -the final character in Latin, O -as Omega, the final character in Greek and Th as Tau -the final character in Hebrew.”

“Uh-huh.” More mumbo-jumbo. He crossed through the open gate and headed to the bridge. It was still dark, but he could see a yellow stripe to the east. The sun would rise within the hour.

“I’ve found one incredible fascinating entry, listen to this. In alchemy, there are three symbolic substances called Mercury, Sulphur, and Salt.

 _To these was added a fourth, mysterious life principle called Azoth. The Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury must not be confounded in any way with the crude salt, sulphur and mercury taken from the earth or secured from the apothecary. Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury each have a triune nature, for each of these substances contains, in reality, also the other two substances._ ”

“Look, John…”

“There’s more. _The body of Salt is, therefore, threefold, namely salt, sulphur, and mercury; but in the body of Salt one of the three -salt predominates. Mercury is likewise composed of salt, sulphur, and mercury with the latter element predominating. Sulphur, similarly, are actually salt, sulphur, and mercury, with sulphur predominating. These nine divisions - 3 times 3 - plus Azoth, which is the mysterious universal life force, equals 10, the sacred Decad of Pythagoras_. This is so fascinating.”

“It’s meaningless babble, John.”

Harrison sighted. “Figured you wouldn’t understand. You’ve never really been interested in philosophy, wisdom or po…”

“And what do we tell the girl, John? That the reason she got dragged into this mess is because some greedy bastard was planning on using her to carry on with his sick little game until the end of time? That her parents have been murdered because of this azoth, whatever the hell it is? She’s gonna blame herself for what happened. Then talking about salt and mercury and bloody sulphur isn’t gonna do her much good.” He immediately regretted his outburst.  
Harrison looked truly shocked. “Do you mean she has…? Geez, I didn’t know… Look, you know I want to save her just as much as you do, I never meant to…”

“Yeah, I know you do. I’m sorry, John.”

“Me too. It’s this place, it’s…”

“Tell me ‘bout it. But what _is_ really this Azoth?”

Harrison paused for a second. “From what I understand, there’s much controversy concerning the nature of Azoth. Some view it as an invisible, eternal fire, others as electricity, still others as magnetism. Eh, transcendalists refer to it as the astral light whatever _that_ means. I guess the ones who _do_ know what it is, is not going to share their knowledge with the world. And one more thing, I have…”

The ground started to shake under his feet and Leon didn’t catch that last sentence. Six yards from the entrance to the House of Truth, the bridge had started to descend into the water. He had no time to attach the radio. Holding the communication device tight in his hand, he ran at full speed, jumped, and managed to grab a hold on the edge as the bridge disappeared under him.

“Leon, what’s going on?” The American agent started the strenuous task of pulling himself up once again. When he was almost up, the radio slipped in his hand and Leon cursed as he watched his only means of communication plump into the water. He stepped up the stairs and turned the knob. The door was shut tight. Leon tried to force it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Fiona!” he screamed, hammering on the massive wood. “Fiona, can you hear me?”

There was no response and Leon’s apprehension grew.

“Fiona! Hewie!” He put his ear to the door and listened. A second later, he heard a rumbling sound on the other side. An explosion? He resumed hammering.

“Fiona. FIOOONAAA” Still no response. Leon backed away from the door.

“Damn!”


	24. Revelation

After crossing a short and narrow walkway, Fiona and Hewie found themselves in an area of about 25x30sqft. The sudden rise in temperature made her skin tingle, as if thousands of tiny needles were pricking her from the inside. Her eyes scanned the large, open area. The minimalist architecture was a stark contrast to the gothic, medieval style in the castle and mansion. This place was more - eccentric. Stained glass in the ceiling threw a peculiar pattern of circular shadows on the floor, and several thin pillars of what could best be described as hollow wood went from floor to ceiling. There were stairs on both sides, going down and turning 180°.  The pattern on the floor, the banisters and railings, the lamps, the pillars, the overall shape of the room… everything had a round or globular shape to it. Fiona couldn’t spot a single square-shaped item anywhere.

“So, this is the House of Truth…”

She had half expected to see Lorenzo welcoming her at the door, but the place seemed totally deserted. Though, he was a very old man, and from what he’d written in the last note, he had difficulties moving around. She would have to track him down herself. Fiona stepped half way down the stair to her left.

“Lorenzo?”

No answer. She walked down to the floor below. Underneath the staircase and between two grizzly bears, a grandfather’s clock was slowly ticking its way through the early morning, reminding Fiona that yet another hour had passed, and she was still stuck in this nightmare. A skull of what had once been an antelope hung to her right and a grey wolf had been placed in a corner. Hewie glared at the canine with unease. The area also housed a flowering shrub, a wooden couch, chairs with no pillars and a small cabinet. She spotted one of those eerie-looking holes leading into the secret alchemy workshop. She walked up again and descended the second staircase, Hewie trailing right behind her, down to another storage room the same size as the one she’d just left. A single torch lit up the area, a crisply burning fire sprouting showers of sparks into the air. Fiona started to feel warm and removed Leon’s jacket. Carrying the brown leather clothing over her arm, she walked up to some crates, the only items in the otherwise empty room. The print said; _Caution. Extremely flammable._ Probably packed with explosives or the like. She thought it best to keep her distance.

Back on the upper floor, she found a door hidden behind pillars of bamboo-like material and entered a narrow pathway with walls of dark stone. Human-like shapes and figures were protruding from the walls and ceiling. Though made of stone, Fiona still found the sight extremely macabre. She hugged Leon’s jacket tight and drew in the scent of leather and male cologne. A sweet, warm, tingling sensation rushed through her body and she felt her cheeks glowing. She had no idea what so ever as to what type of brand it could be, save for definitely not the heavy and spicy Hugo Boss her father used to favour. This scent was light, fresh and energizing, but still masculine. Perfect for an active and sporty young man.

The corridor ended at a closed door with a strange carving resembling a sun. She turned the knob, pushed the door open and peeked inside. Was that a shadow in the darkness? She took a few steps into the room for a better view when suddenly the door slammed shut, nearly decapitating Hewie in the process. Fiona spun around, but then she turned and squinted into the darkness.

“Who’s there?” Eerie, squeaky sounds and hazy breathing emerged from the void. Terrified, she hurried back to the door.

“Poor Fiona…”

That voice - she had heard it before. On the telephone… _Lorenzo?!_ Hands on the knob, she tried to turn it round. The shady figure kept talking.

“Riccardo put you through quite a bit, _didn’t he_?”

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the murky room. She saw weird equipment and posters in the back, bookcases along the walls and a statue half buried in the floor in front of her. But Lorenzo was still hiding in the shadows.

“Unlike Ugo, he was always a troublemaker. A _bad_ apple.”

More grunting and gurgling, menacing sounds were rising from the gloominess ahead. Faces of stone were stirring at her from everywhere. She was now really getting anxious and she regretted leaving Leon. What Lorenzo said next stirred up a turmoil of emotions inside Fiona as the truth her parents had hidden from her all these years, a truth she wished she had never learned, was revealed.

“I, Aureolus Lorenzo Belli, created them both, Riccardo and Ugo.”

Deep down she already knew, but to hear it spoken aloud, from someone she’d seen as an ally, was a blow to the stomach. Then she felt nothing but numbness.

“But then along came that wench, Ayla. She _stole_ Ugo away from me!”

Fiona could hear the contempt in his voice. He chose that moment to reveal himself. An old wheelchair emerged from the shadow, and the small and bony figure in it looked to be a hundred and fifty years old.

“Of course, then you came along, my dear. My dear Fiona. Fate brought you back to me!”

His hands frantically pushing the wheels, he started rolling towards the petrified girl at light speed while laughing hysterically. “You are mine. _All mine!_ ”

Fiona jerked the door open with a scream and dived through the doorway. The old man leaped out of his chair and grabbed Fiona’s leg, which made her fall. She heard Hewie barking and felt Lorenzo’s scrawny, skeleton fingers groping her thigh. It was like being molested by a mummy. She fought to free herself, but the persistent, breathing corpse refused to let go. He tore off the compress on her tight, and Fiona screamed in dread and pain as dry, bony fingers bore deep into the cut. His sneering and gurgling grew louder as he got more and more excited by the sight of fresh blood pouring out of the gaping wound. He loosened the clutch on her leg and Fiona kicked him hard in the face and staggered to her feet. Hasting out of the gloomy hallway, she squeezed her hand on the bleeding wound while asking herself why. _Why was he doing this? Why was this happening to her?_

Lorenzo’s pupils grew wide at the sight of his hand smeared in Fiona’s blood, and a spark ignited in his otherwise dead, pallid eyes. “Azoth,” he gurgled and with a serpent’s tongue, he licked his hand free of the crimson fluid. His dried, wrinkled corpse twitched and jerked in excitement, and he felt an immense joy as he greedily slurped up the fresh bloodstains on the ground. Not a single drop was left behind.

“ _Azoth_.”

Fiona ran the fastest she could back to the front door. It was closed. Had she closed it behind her when she’d entered the building? She couldn’t remember. She pulled hard on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. She heard gurgling and grunting, and dread shot through her. _He_ was coming for her. While Hewie stalled Lorenzo, Fiona ran down one of the stairs to hide in the shrub below. Crouching between branches and leaves, she could hear Lorenzo, searching around for her _._ His eerie breathing and feverish grunting as he was crawling over the floor was sickening. _Oh, please Leon. Hurry up._

Lorenzo stalled, hesitated and resumed the search. Fiona went ice cold as she felt his scrawny fingers curling around her ankle. _He had found her._

Fiona tried to shake free from Lorenzo’s clench, but he refused to let go. How could a crippled, old man be so strong? Hewie came to her rescue once again by fiercely biting at Lorenzo’s neck, forcing the old man to let go of his death grip. Fiona stumbled up the stairs, hasted down to the other room and crouched behind the explosive crates. Hewie remained upstairs, barking like crazy. It was a poor hiding spot and Lorenzo was a good hunter. Though hiding was not her objective. Quite the contrary, she wanted to be found. It didn’t take long before Lorenzo had dragged his dried corpse down the steps, suspiciously in Fiona’s direction.

“Is that you, over there?”

As the old man approached with an unusually high speed, Fiona darted out from behind the crates and grabbed the crisply burning torch only a few feet away. She waited until the crawling fossil had circled the boxes, and then she threw the torch behind the crates. When she started running for the stair, she tripped on a tile and nearly twisted her ankle. Lorenzo stretched out his long arms and grabbed a hold of Fiona’s leg. Though Hewie’s intense barking, Fiona heard the sound of wood burning. So did Lorenzo. The old man turned his head and his expression froze. “ _FIOOOOONAAAA!”_

The explosion that followed echoed through the building and made the floor shake. Fiona instinctively covered her head with her arms. When the smoke had lifted, she rose and saw Lorenzo’s body lying motionless on the ground, covered in wreckage. The explosion had blasted a hole in a nearby wall and unravelled a hidden corridor. Fiona noticed something shiny between the rubble strewn around the floor. Why was Hewie upstairs…? _Leon!_ She grabbed the golden key and hurried up to unlock the door.

She found the American agent sitting on the steps outside. Hearing the door unlock behind him, he quickly rose and hurried inside.

“What just happened?” His head turned left, then right, and then back to Fiona. “What was that sound?”

Seeing the young girl’s expression, he took a deep breath to cool down.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a calmer tone. “What the he-, eh, what happened? Where’s Lorenzo?”

Fiona remained silent but pointed at a staircase to Leon’s right. He gave her a ‘wait here’ gesture and scooted down to investigate. When he returned, Fiona was sitting at the top of the staircase. The Alsatian resting next to her.

“He’s gone, there’s no pulse,” he said, unmoved. Fiona stared down at her feet. Leon sat down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. Her pulse quickened.

“Hey, Fiona. It’s okay, you…”

Leon stopped talking mid-sentence when he noticed the large gash on Fiona’s thigh and the streaks of blood running down her leg.

“Who did this to you?”

Fiona felt her eyes burning behind squeezed eyelids. Her hatred for this place, these people, was indescribable. Leon put both hands on her shoulders. His fingertips brushed her bare back ever so slightly. It made her skin burn.

“Did _he_ do this to you?” he asked. Fiona nodded. Her eyes remained shut.

“Lorenzo?”

More nodding. She slowly opened her eyes. Her lips parted. Finally, she spoke.

“I-I’m so sorry, Leon. I-I really thought he was o-on my-, our side.”

She turned away. Her cheeks burning with shame. And something else. An unfamiliar sensation stirring deep inside her, a growing emotion that was not yet allowed to surface to her conscious mind.

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Leon comforted, fighting the urge to hug her. He removed his hands from her shoulders, placed his thumb and index on her chin and lifted her head, allowing their eyes to meet.

“I’m here now. Everything is going to be okay.”

Jade eyes, filled with sorrow and fear, relief and gratitude. Clearer than the sky and deeper than the ocean, he could have stared into them for hours and be lost in his own world, forgetting about time and space. Any other place any other time, he would have placed his hands around her head and curled his fingers into her golden locks. Then he would’ve pulled her close t and gently pressed her soft, delicate lips to his. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly shook free of the fantasy and mentally kicked himself for daydreaming while on a mission. Pretending that his growing emotions for the girl sitting next to him didn’t exist, he took out a first aid kit from one of the many side pockets on his pant legs.

“We have to do something about that wound before we can move on,” he said, unscrewing the lid of a disinfectant. While Fiona stroked Hewie’s back, Leon washed away the dried blood on her leg with a sterile cotton pad. He then took out a new pad and soaked it in antiseptic.

“This is going to sting.”

Fiona buried her head in Hewie’s fur while Leon cleaned the gash. It felt like her skin was on fire. Then he flushed the gaping cut with saline and covered it with dry pads, gauze and tape. Hewie went to get Leon’s jacket that Fiona had dropped when running away from Lorenzo.

“There,” Leon said smilingly when he was finished. “Good as new. Well, almost.”

Fiona gave him a coy smile. There was something about Leon’s calm behaviour and boyish charm that made her feel safe and relaxed even in this hellish place. The American agent held his gaze fixed on her chest for a couple of seconds and then he quickly turned away, his face flushing.

“Eh, we ought to get going.”

His eyes avoiding Fiona, he picked up his jacket, patted Hewie on the head and started walking down the entrance hall. Fiona fought hard not to laugh.

“Leon,” she called out. The special agent turned and saw Fiona standing almost half way down the stair.

“It’s this way,” she said, jerking her head. Now Leon felt even more stupid.

“Right.”

Fiona let the agent pass and walked behind him down the stairs, past Lorenzo’s body and into the unveiled hallway. She’d caught him red handed ogling her breasts, and for some odd reason, she found it amusing. She never found it amusing when men stared at her chest, quite the opposite.

This corridor was somewhat wider than the previous and had fewer disturbing figures with the odd stained-glass window to their left. Fiona noticed little else. Her eyes were locked on Leon’s back. The parts of her skin that had been stroked by Leon’s fingers still tingled. When they were almost at the end of the corridor, Hewie started to growl and Fiona’s apprehension grew. She turned. So did Leon. Was that… a noise? A voice…?

“ _Azoth.”_

Impossible, but still a reality. Lorenzo was still alive somehow. Resurrected from the dead, he’d resumed his quest for Azoth.

“Quick, in here,” Leon shouted. Fiona and Hewie hasted through a door that Leon held open. The agent closed the door behind him and positioned himself between Fiona and the entrance. Piles of rocks and sacks of dirt laid strewn to the right and a demolisher lined the wall to the left. The sound of Lorenzo’s fingernails scraping the door on the other side sent chills down Fiona’s spine. Hewie’s ears laid flat. The crippled man managed to knock the door open and crawled at full speed in Fiona’s direction before coming to an abrupt stop. Without his knowledge, his robe had fastened in the demolisher’s conveyor belt. The more he tried to drag his dried corpse forward, the more the cloth intertwined in the belt. Leon kicked the generator to life and the conveyor belt started rolling, dragging Lorenzo’s body with it.

“Fi-Fiona, Fiona. FIOOOONA.”

Fiona turned her head as the old man got crushed by the demolisher. Leon did not. He wanted to make sure that this time, the old man really was dead.

“Let’s move on,” he urged, his fingers brushing her arm. The trio left the mining area through a door engraved with a yellow sun and entered a brightly lit hall that was empty except for yet another grandfather’s clock. Fiona noticed it had been almost exactly twelve hours since she’d entered the castle suite after waking up in that basement. Leon tried to open a door straight ahead, but it was locked from the other side.

“This one is open,” Fiona said and stepped through another doorway, regretting it immediately. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Leon and Hewie in the foyer outside. Fiona heard Leon call out her name as he desperately tried to kick the door open. Then a voice filled the air.

“You’ve been very naughty, Fiona. You’ve been causing me much grief.”

The blonde quickly turned, but there was no one behind there. She started hammering on the door.

“What are you doing, Fiona? Just where do you intend to run?”

The voice was coming from everywhere and nowhere. She ran through the corridor and relief surged to her when she saw a door at the other end. She jerked it up and felt her heart sink.

“Aha. Looks like a dead end, my dear. How unfortunate.”

In pure desperation, Fiona started kicking the wall. The voice echoed through the room once more. “There’s no need to be so upset, my dear.”

Whose voice was this? Where was it coming from?

“I will have you in my grasp soon enough.”

She backed and nearly fell victim of a falling bookcase. The voice laughed.

“That was a close one, eh Fiona?”

The male voice continued mocking her as she ran through the corridor.

“Have you longed for me as I have longed for you?”

The door was still shut tight.

“I can see you clearly from here, Fiona.”

She hammered her fists on the locked door. “Leon. Hewie,” she shouted.

“How adorable you are, Fiona.”

“Leon. Hewie, are you there?”

“Oh, how I love thee Azoth.”

_“Hewie. LEON.”_

“The young man has gone astray, my dear. He and the beast headed down the path of the wet method and they are now lost in the coloured hallways.”

Fiona had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it was clear that Leon and Hewie were no longer on the other side.

“Why must you run from me?”

She sank to the floor, sobbing.

“My dear Fiona, you simply cannot understand.”

She rose and backed away from the door.

“Everything I do is for the great truth.”

She couldn’t have cared less about _the great truth_.

“At last, you are mine, Fiona.”

Fiona heard a click and the door opened.

“Come to me, Fiona. Come to me, Fiona.”

The last thing Fiona wanted was to meet the owner of this mocking, mystery voice, but she had no other choice but to go through the door. She had to find Leon and Hewie. She hurried out of the corridor with the strange voice and out to a completely different location than before. Had the entire manor transformed? The door slammed shut behind her and she heard the lock click. The voice spoke again.

“The great Aureolus Belli once said: _The most valuable thing in this world is the Great Truth_.”

Fiona looked around. She noticed a large painting in the ceiling. There was no way to tell where the voice was coming from.

“Human beings… human life… They are not capable of grasping this truth. We cannot merely sit idle and await the future. We must dedicate our lives to the realization of the truth!”

The door which she’d just exited cranked open once more.

“Ah, Fiona… no, my Azoth. Come to me… come to me.”

The only other door in the room being locked, she had no other choice but to enter. “I guess they have no intention of letting me go home,” she thought to herself as she reluctantly stepped up to the half open door. Pushing it open, she noticed that the voice-filled corridor had morphed into a small room bathing in green light. Then the door slammed shut behind her. The owner of the voice finally revealed himself. She turned to see the person on the portrait in the castle suite staring at her with eyes that bore deep into her soul. She now knew why the person on the paintings had looked so familiar.

“Daddy?”

The man in front of her moved towards her with a mocking laugh. Fiona backed up against the wall on the other side of the room. The man looking like her father reached out his hand to stroke Fiona’s cheek.

“Ah, Fiona. My dear holder of Azoth.”

Fiona waved him. “What is going on? You’re not my…”

“Azoth is the essence of life,” he enlightened. “We alchemists have the ability to convert it into power. We can live forever!” He drew a deep breath. “Your Azoth, Fiona belongs to _me_.”

The man started twitching and turning, and his entire body was contracting in what looked like painful spasms, though he never stopped laughing. It didn’t stop until he appeared to be thirty years younger, looking just like her father when he’d been rocking her on his knee when she was four. The painful realization hurt to the bone.

“ _This man_ ,” she reminded herself. “His eyes, his laughter, _he_ is evil, beyond doubt.” He bent down and reached out his hand to Fiona.

“Come to me, Fiona. I will now extract the Azoth latent in you in order to realise the everlasting life of _Aureolus Belli_.”

No way! Fiona bolted out of the room and through an open door. Hadn’t this door been closed just a minute ago? It didn’t matter, this man was dangerous, even more so than the other stalkers. She had to get away. She ran through a corridor with red windows, sinister laughter all around her. Or was it just in her head? Was she imagining hearing Hewie barking? No, there he was, thank God. But still no sign of Leon. She followed Hewie into a tunnel. The more she kept running, the more she seemed to get lost.

“I’m coming for you, Fiona.”

The alchemist used magic to teleport and Hewie’s biting didn’t seem to affect him one bit. He just threw the dog away, mumbling ‘ _meddlesome cur_.’ Fiona though she’d never make it out alive. Just when she was convinced that she was merely running in circles, she finally reached a flight of steps leading up to a near empty area that seemed somewhat familiar. After another set of stairs, she noticed this area was an exact replica of where she’d first entered, but it had no door leading out of the building. Instead, the walkway ended in mid-air. She hurried down a set of stairs and through a door. She had quit studying the surroundings. No more admiring of magnificent artwork and antique sculptures, she just wanted to get out, she hated this place and she just wanted to go home. She only stopped to destroy the occasional miniature homunculi popping up at random.

The monotonous ticking of a grandfather’s clock lured her through an arched doorway to a murky area only lit up by a couple of flickering torches, and from there she entered a place unlike any other she’d seen before, a circle round area bathing in an orange-red glow. A gaping hole took up most of the floor, thick pipes travelled along the ceiling and large fans were built into the wall. Hewie was sniffing the stone covet ground near a small altar. A caduceus had been engraved above a tiny groove in the middle of the plate, suggested something missing from the altar. Hewie barked and his back went rigid.

“Hewie?”

Fiona crouched next to the canine.

“Have you picked up the scent, boy?”

They left the odd place and Fiona followed Hewie into a tunnel illuminated by torches and supported by wooden beams. The path divided in two and since it seemed that Hewie had lost the scent, Fiona had to guess which way to go. She chose right, which ended at a locked door. She turned the key that had been left in the lock, opened the door and was back in the same area where she’d lost Leon only minutes earlier. She noted a third door, but it was closed so tight it was like welded shut. Or perhaps sealed by alchemic magic? Was this a way out? She headed back into the tunnels. Where was Leon? Hewie was barking at a wall as if trying to tell her something. Fiona noticed irregularities and decided to try giving it a push. The moment her fingers touched the wall, she felt a stabbing pain above the left shoulder blade. Her hand flew to her back. She was convinced she was bleeding but there were no traces of blood on her fingers. A red mark appeared on the wall, the exact same shape as her birthmark. What the h-?

The wall parted, revealing a cane of caduceus. Its wooden handle had started to corrode, and the cane had fallen into disrepair. Fiona carefully removed it and hurried back to the orange room. She made it without any distractions and put the cane with the two intertwining snakes into the groove. The ruby on top of the staff glimmered in the orange light. Suddenly the ground started to shake, and sparks of electricity travelled along the walls and the pipes over Fiona’s head. The fans started rotating and the hole in the middle of the room filled up with red glowing magma. Fiona knew she had to be careful. If she fell into the pit, she would be toast - quite literally.

“Your effort is for naught.”

The girl lifted her gaze. Through the ascending heat and tiny bubbles of lava, she saw a familiar figure. Too familiar. Like her father when he was walking her to her first day of school, holding her hand and comforting her, telling her everything would be okay. A stab of pain. Now she would be forced to kill or to be killed. The realization hurt. She kept reminding herself that this monster was not her father.

“How long do you plan to keep this up?”

Aureolus Belli lifted his head and squinted.

“Let’s finish this, Fiona.”

He vanished before her eyes, teleported to the other side of the magma-filled hole, landed on top of the young girl and knocked her to the ground. Then he arched his body backwards, raised his hands in the air and laughed. A blue light surrounded him. Hewie attacked. The alchemist shook himself free and kicked the dog hard in the side. Hewie howled in pain.

“Meddlesome cur!” he exclaimed. “I’ve had it!”

He slammed his fist to the floor, making the ground shake like an earthquake. Then he bolted towards the terrified girl still lying on the ground. Fiona picked up a jade-coloured stone and threw it at the young, powerful and furious Lorenzo. The pebble bounced off and landed in the pit, which caused a burst of flames to sprout out of the well. It seemed to stun Lorenzo for briefly. She continued to throw and kick stones into the magma while avoiding the alchemist for what felt like an eternity. He got more and more infuriated with each second. Then a gush of wind. Hewie had stepped onto a platform and activated one of the fans. It was as if the blazing air was draining the alchemist of his powers. He stumbled backwards, to the edge of the lava pit, dived into the inferno, with a taunting laugh like he had nothing to fear, not even death itself.

Fiona _knew_ that no one could fall into hot-glowing lava and survive. Nevertheless, something just didn’t feel right. “Come on, Hewie,” she said to the canine growling at the well. “We have to get out.”

The ground was shaking, and pieces of stone fell from the ceiling. Had she activated a self-destructive mechanism?

A large tremor made her instinctively crouch. The path to the right was blocked by boulders, and she was stopped by a shut door to the left. She tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t bulge. Something seemed to be snagged on the other side of the door, keeping it from opening. A glowing light in the corner of her eye and the smell of burnt meat caught her attention. Something was burning, moving…?

“Fiooona!”

Impossible!

Aureolus Belli, engulfed in flames was coming for her, desperate for her Azoth.

“Hewie, go!”

The canine bounced into the door, bursting it open. Fiona flew through the doorway into a tunnel. Another tremor caused her to fall to the floor. The flaming corpse was getting closer. Panic was rising within her. She stumbled onwards on all four, her heart fiercely pounding in her chest. A statue fell into her arms. She had to use all her muscle force to prevent the heavy thing from squashing her. The orange light was growing closer and closer.

Suddenly the weight on her chest lifted, and someone pulled her arm.

“Fiona, come on. Let’s move!”

Leon!

“This way, hurry. Building’s gonna fall any second.”

Young Lorenzo, now merely a burning skeleton appeared in the doorway and made Leon’s eyes go wide.

“What the- _shit_! MOVE, NOW!”

He took Fiona’s hand and together they made it to the main hall, the flaming corpse right on their heels. Lorenzo somehow managed to reach the exit first and effectively blocking the only way out, screaming and waving his red-glowing limbs in a last desperate effort to stop Fiona. But he’d been on fire for too long. He soon crumbled to the floor. No Azoth could save him now. After a few minutes, there were only a few ounces of ash left of the great alchemist. Fiona kicked the black powder.

“This time,” she whispered. “You really are dead. Bastard.”

She felt a mystical power flowing through the door in front of her. It opened as soon as Leon placed a hand on it. It was still dark outside, but now the sky had a clear blue colour. The sun would rise any moment. Behind them, the house of truth was now nothing but a pile of large rocks. They had managed to escape just in time. Now they were heading into the darkness of the chaos forest. There was a small pitch and some sharp rocks ahead and Fiona, who was still walking around barefoot, cut her toe. Leon took her in his arms and carried her over the uneven terrain. The short skirt barely covered her groin and she started to feel self-conscious again. The dress was very beautiful and comfortable, but it was not something that she would’ve chosen to wear herself. She hoped that Leon didn’t think this was how she normally dressed. Luckily, his mind seemed to be occupied with other things. When he reached soft forest ground, he put her down. Her foot didn’t hurt that much, and they would move faster if she ran on her own feet. Leon lit his flashlight and they spotted a narrow path almost hidden in the thick forest, travelling in the direction of the castle.

Hewie stopped up and sniffed the air. They didn’t have much time. He started to run down the slope, but slid on the wet, moss-grown surface and collided with a large boulder. One of his paws got jammed between the rock and the stone covert ground. His other paws panicky scratched the stone surface until he started bleeding from his claws, but his canine body didn’t move an inch. Any desperate attempt to shake free only resulted in excruciating pain. He saw Fiona’s blonde hair disappear between branches and leaves in the forest ahead. He didn’t bark, did nothing to call for her attention. He still smelled danger in the air, and he wanted Fiona to keep moving. If she just kept moving, she’d make it. Besides, she had someone else to protect her now. Hewie knew that he would die, alone and in pain, but knowing that Fiona was safe gave him peace. He loved Fiona and would sacrifice his life for her in a heartbeat.


	25. The Getaway

“Hewie!”

They’d been running through the woods for almost five minutes when Fiona realised the white German shepherd was no longer with them.

“Hewie,” she called out once more. Leon joined in. There was no sign of him anywhere and Fiona started to feel panicky. No white-coated animal came running out from behind the tree lines, there was no bark in reply, no cry for help.

“He is _gone_!” Fiona cried out in desperation, angry with herself for not noticing sooner. She had just lost both her parents; she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Hewie too. Even though she had only known the Alsatian for a few hours, she loved him more than anything.

“I am not leaving without Hewie,” she persisted and turned to run back. Leon stopped her.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go and look for him.”

Fiona watched as Leon disappeared into the darkness. Soon she could neither see nor hear him. Worried sick about Hewie, she was terrified Leon might come back empty handed. Even more terrified that he might not come back at all. Her eyes wandered the spooky forest. Dark silhouettes of branches formed a cobweb pattern against the blue sky above, adding to the ghostly atmosphere. A gush of wind sent chills flying through her, covering her pale figure with goose bumps. The forest was pre-dawn quiet with only a few birds singing. Daylight was not far away and for Fiona, the sun couldn’t rise fast enough, warm and pleasant, soothing her soul and chasing the murky shadows away. Something crawled onto her foot, sending shivers through her body. Her leg jerked and she violently shook off the crawly bug. That’s when she heard it. A noise, clearly not belonging to any forest creature. Was it just her paranoia? How long had Leon been gone? Four minutes? Maybe five?

It started as a sneaking sensation from deep within her chest, but it soon grew stronger, manifesting itself in her entire body. She heard her pulse throbbing in her ears pacing up as it dawned on her. _She was not alone._ She quickly turned, but there was no one behind her. She focused on her breathing to calm herself down. Deep inhalations, slow exhalations.

“It’s just my imagination,” she told herself, over and over. “There is no one here, there _can’t_ be…” It didn’t help. The unnerving feeling of being watched grew more and more intense. One more minute went by. Two. Three. Then another sound. A branch snapping in two. Then one more. Clothes brushing against leaves. Ice-cold fear froze the blood in her veins and her vision narrowed. Now she was sure. Someone was out there, lurking in the shadows, watching her, waiting, _hunting..._

She turned again. _Where?_ Ten metres away? A hundred?

She had to do something. Her first instinct was to run. ‘ _No,’_ a voice said inside her head. _‘Whoever is out there knows these woods much better than you. You’d just fall victim of a cruel cat and mouse game. Better to stay put and wait for Leon.’_ But what if Leon didn’t make it? _No!_ She wouldn’t even finish that thought. A crow lifted from the branch it had been resting on. The sound made Fiona jump. Had it been spooked by something? Her mouth was dry, her palms moist and sweat was running down her temples. The birds had stopped singing. _He was near._ Should she scream? Hide? Too late. Her heart nearly stopped when a clammy hand clutched her throat and something cold pressed against her temple. An angry voice hissed in her ear.

“Don’t move a muscle!”

~*~

After several minutes of searching and shouting, Leon saw a movement in the corner of his eye that caught his attention. A white dot between piles of sharp rocks a few steps from the ruins of what had once been the House of Truth. He carefully made his way up to the hurt dog to avoid startling him. Hewie warily lifted his head at the sound of human footsteps. The wind was blowing in an unfavourable direction and the frightened animal could not smell who was approaching. When the government agent crouched next to him, relief rushed through his body and his eyes lit up.

“Hey there, buddy.” Leon comforted him and stroked his head. Despite the angst and agony, the dog wagged his tail. Leon’s heart sank when he saw the blood-stained paws.

“Let’s get this thing off you, eh boy,” he said as he put all his weight on the stone squeezing onto Hewie’s back leg. With the help of a stick, he managed to move it a little bit, just enough for Hewie to crawl free. He was badly injured and undoubtedly in a lot of pain. Leon tucked the animal in his jacket and lifted the bundle up in his arms. The dog was now wagging his whole body in happiness and eagerly licking Leon’s face to show his gratitude. The agent patted his head in response.

“Hey, not in the ear,” he laughed. Then recognition sparked in Leon’s eyes as he remembered a white dog caught in a bear trap, his back leg severely injured.

“This is not the first time I’ve helped you, eh boy?”

Hewie answered with a cheerful bark.

Hewie’s crushed paw was too badly injured for walking so Leon carried him in his arms as they hurried back through the dense forest. Hewie got more and more agitated with every passing step by and Leon had a hard time holding on to him.

“Hey, easy there, buddy,” he said, trying to comfort the animal. His snout was high, and Leon was wondering if he’d caught a whiff of something.

“What is it, bud?” he whispered in Hewie’s ear. “Is someone around?” He started to feel uneasy. The only weapon he had on him was his knife, and Hewie was too injured to fight even for himself. One minute later, he realised he should never have left Fiona alone. Shock, then rage raced through the agent and the canine.

“What the-” Leon stuttered, perplexed.

The last person he’d expected to see had taken the terrified Miss Belli hostage, holding a gun to her head with one hand and the other hand tight around her throat.

“ _You!_ How the hell did you…?” he spoke in bewilderment and disgust to the person behind Fiona.

The sweet feeling of victory made Riccardo Belli virtually glowing. He lifted his chin and a satisfactory smile crept over his deformed face.

“Fool. Did you really think you’d beaten _me_?” he said with arrogant pride, enjoying every second. “I told you, as an alchemist I have unspeakable and immeasurable powers. I even know how to cheat death.”

“No, it’s impossible to survive a fall like that!” Leon angrily exclaimed.

Riccardo’s grin widened and displayed a set of perfectly aligned teeth. “Not for me, I’m _invincible_.”

“You’re insane!”

“Am I?” His grip on Fiona’s throat tightened. “Or am I merely a misunderstood genius?”

Hewie’s upper lip curled upwards as a deep, hateful sneer emerged from between his sharp teeth. Leon could tell from his taut body that he was ready to fight, but the dog couldn’t even walk, and Riccardo would not hesitate to shoot him right in front of Fiona’s eyes. Leon was not about to let that happened. He hugged the canine close to his chest.

“Let the girl go!”

Riccardo tightened his grip on Fiona’s throat even more. His index was pressing so hard on her larynx she started to choke. “She’s _mine_ ,” he hissed and buried his lips in her hair. He decided to reveal his intentions to the uninvited guest. Before killing him, he wanted to taunt this troublesome young man by telling him what he would do to the girl. _In detail. He_ had the upper hand now. Nothing and no one could stop him, not even this imprudent, American intruder.

“ _I need her._ Or more precisely, I need her womb. You see, only by being reincarnated with _her_ Azoth can I become complete.”

He stroked Fiona’s hair with the barrel of his gun. “S _he_ will give birth to _me_ as the true Aureolus Belli, a master alchemist, a true scholar an… _immortal_.”

Fiona burned with shame. And fear. Disgust and revolt made Leon’s stomach turn.

“Don’t you even dare to put your hands on her!” he screamed, his cheeks burning with rage and fury. He was much too agitated, much too emotionally involved than what he should be as a special agent. But he couldn’t help it. Just the mere thought of what this _monster_ was planning to do to this girl…

“Oh, yeah?” Riccardo loosened his grip on Fiona’s neck and started tracing his fingers along her collarbone.

“You touch her one more time and I’ll break every bone in your body.”

Riccardo sighted. Even though clearly defeated, the American showed no sign of resigning. He’d enjoyed shovelling his triumph in the young man’s face, but now this was getting rather tiresome. He turned his attention to Fiona.

“Let’s end this now Fiona. It’s been a long night my dear and you should get some rest.”

He grabbed her hair and looked straight into her jade eyes. At that moment, he was more frightening than anyone Fiona had ever seen before, including the giant and the insane, murderous maid. She thought he looked nothing like her father.

“My offer still stands. Come with me and I will let them both live,” he lied.

Leon was not about to let Riccardo get away that easily.

“If you need her as much as you say you do then put down your gun.”

Riccardo frowned. It was true that his plans would be ruined if the young girl was to be shot. However, he would rather see her dead than leave the castle with _him_. Besides, the young man would never do anything to endanger the young lady’s life.

“I’ll take my chances,” he sneered back. Then he started to move and pulled the girl with him. “ _Now Fiona_ , are you ready to go home?”

Fiona felt her body turn and follow Riccardo into the forest. Behind her, Leon was shouting that Riccardo would never get away with this and Hewie was probably saying the same thing in dog language. _Hewie._ She had to fight hard to hold back the tears. They had fought so hard together against this place. They had almost made it. _Almost._ Fiona turned her head and saw the silhouette of the castle in front of them. Her future home. _‘The rest of my life… in this place,’_ she thought. She saw Riccardo’s smug grin in the corner of her eye. ‘ _With this man. Forcing himself on me…’_ He had no intentions of letting Hewie or Leon live. He did not want any loose ends. And once he got his Azoth…

 _’No,’_ said a voice inside her head. No, this is _not_ going to happen. Leon and Hewie would not die and she would not be his slave for the rest of her life. She would rather die. With strength and courage she didn’t even know she had, she twisted herself out of his grip and pushed him the hardest she could. A surprised Riccardo quickly grabbed her hand.

“Fiona, what are you doing?”

With nothing to lose and everything to win she fought back the hardest she could muster. Leon got silent for a second and then he started calling out her name, fear in his voice. With every muscle working at full force, she started kicking Riccardo’s leg, twitching and turning her body, fighting to free herself, fighting for her life. For a short moment Riccardo seemed completely taken aback by her intense struggle.

“Fiona, NO! Why are you…?”

A gunshot roaring through the air made everyone go ice cold. Free from Riccardo’s grip Fiona stumbled backwards. She tried to regain her balance, but her shaky legs could barely hold her up. Though she was cold and exhausted, her fingers felt so warm. And moist. She lowered her gaze. All colour vanished from her face as she saw the crimson red fluid dripping from her hands. Then she fell to the forest floor.

Leon’s voice brought her back to consciousness. He was repeating the same phrase over and over, but Fiona was too stressed to make out the words. Her mind eventually clearing, she saw Leon crouching over her. Still holding on to Hewie, he was trying to shake her awake while Hewie was licking her chin. With good help from Leon, she managed to sit up. Still feeling light headed, she fell forward and landed on his shoulder. Finally, his words reached her mind. She turned and saw Riccardo lying flat on his stomach a few feet away and she realized that the blood on her hands was not hers. She wasn’t the one that had been shot. Never in her life had she been so relieved before. Leon helped her up on her feet. A sound made them both turn, and Leon tightened his grip on Fiona’s waist. Hewie was sniffing the air, but this time he stayed calm. Then Leon’s face lit up in a big smile and Fiona looked up in surprise as John Harrison came out from behind a bush still holding on to Leon’s gun, which he had fired only a few moments earlier.

“About time. What took you so long?”

Harrison threw his arms out in a ‘ _c’mon gimme a break would ya’_ gesture. The only sign of the trauma he’d suffered just a few hours earlier was a slight limp and some dried blood on his trousers.

“Hey, my leg was _broken_ , remember? Look at me, I’m not even supposed to be walking right now.” He clicked the safety back on and gave the firearm back to Leon. “You just be glad I came in time to save your sorry ass,” he smiled.

“I’m just kidding with you amigo.” Leon put a hand over the Interpol agent’s shoulder. “I’ve never been so happy to see your ugly face as I am right now.”

Harrison gave Leon a friendly nudge with his elbow and Hewie a pat on the head, and then he turned his attention towards Fiona.

“So, this is the young Miss Belli?”

Fiona did recognise the British accent from the radio earlier, but she still looked puzzled.

“Eh Fiona, this is my partner John,” Leon clarified. “He’s the one that found out about this place.”

“You turned out to be one hard lady to find, Miss,” Harrison said to Fiona and winked. Leon chuckled. John the flirt, though always a gentleman. All that was missing was the cloak and the top hat.

“Nice to meet you,” Fiona said and returned the smile but not the wink. She shifted her attention back and forth between the two agents, silently asking why, what, when and how.

“We’ll explain everything later,” Leon assured. “After a nice meal and a good night’s sleep. For now, let’s get the hell outta here!”

“Agreed!” John said. “The car’s not far from here. I think. And backup is on its way. When we lost contact earlier, I was about to tell you that as soon as I heard you’d found the girl, I called Interpol headquarters and the French police, who in turn, called the Italians. Cavalry’s on its way as we speak.”

“You managed to call out from here?” Leon asked in surprise.

“I found a telephone in one of the castle’s hallways,” Harrison explained. “The line had been cut, but I managed to hook it up to the outgoing network,” he said triumphantly.

“Good, then what are we waiting for? Let’s move.”

Harrison turned to the motionless and blood-spattered Riccardo lying on the forest ground.

“What about _him_?” he asked. Leon shrugged.

“What _about_ him?” he asked back and turned to look at Fiona. The young girl stared blankly at the lifeless body. Scenes from the accident filled her head. Riccardo murdering her father. With a shiver, she remember waking up in the water tower wearing only the surgical wear, God knows what he’d been doing to her. She thought about when she’d found Hewie with a steel wire digging into his neck, most likely Riccardo’s work. She felt nothing for the fatally injured man lying just a couple of yards from where she was standing. No compassion, no empathy, no desire to help… and absolutely no guilt of leaving him there. She turned away and started to walk away together with John and Leon. They didn’t get far. A sound behind her made her go ice cold.

“You ungrateful, filthy whore,” Riccardo sneered at her back. “I should have gutted you like a fish when I had the chance.”

As on cue, three heads turned simultaneously. Riccardo was still lying on his stomach, but he had lifted his head and was staring at Fiona with icy eyes. Blood and white foam came oozing out of his mouth.

“I should have… sliced you open,” he laughed. Harrison ran up to him and punched him hard on the nose. Leon was busy holding on to both Fiona and Hewie.

“SHUT UP!” he screamed. Riccardo flipped over to his back. Eight eyes widened. He’d been shot straight in the heart, blood was still pouring out of the wound, but he did not seem to be dying. On the contrary, his skin had a fresh colour and his eyes, clear as crystal, were filled with anger and wrath.

“That was what the maid was trying to do to you, wasn’t it?”

Fiona gasped in horror and her eyes widened. It was just the reaction Riccardo had hoped for.

“Oh yes, I’ve seen her, Fiona. I know what happened to her. I know… _everything_.”

A hand flew to her mouth and Leon hugged her harder. Harrison was still holding Riccardo by his blood-smeared clothes. Leon noticed his knuckles were white.

“What did you do to her, Fiona? What did you do to the maid?” Leaning his head back, he was almost chanting.

“Oh, I so wonder what my sweet, sweet Fiona did to our maid…”

“ENOUGH!” Harrison shouted and raised his fist.

“John, NO!” Leon stopped him. “He’s not worth it.”

Harrison’s arm froze mid-air.

“He’s not worth it buddy,” Leon repeated. “This psycho is _not_ worth getting in trouble for.”

Harrison took a deep breath and let go of Riccardo, his face red with anger.

“Yeah,” he said. “This pathetic little creep isn’t worth it.”

Leon was also boiling inside as he watched how Riccardo crawled on the ground coughing up chunks of blood between bursts of sinister laughter.

“I didn’t…” an upset Fiona said with a shrill voice.  “I didn’t mean to… I-I didn’t know that the glass would break. I just wanted to get away. I never meant for anyone to get hurt, I swear,” she sobbed.

Leon put Hewie gently down and put both hands on Fiona’s shoulders.

“I know,” he said to her. “Look, I saw her too. You’re not to blame for what happened to her, you hear me?” He stroked her chin. “There’s no way you could have known.”

Fiona nodded. Leon’s words had calmed her once again. He seemed to know exactly what to say. Just as Riccardo knew exactly how to make her feel even worse just when she thought she couldn’t be any more miserable.

“Fiona,” he hissed. “Do you want to know what your father said to me before he died at my hand? Do you want to know what his last words were before he choked on his own blood?”

“Don’t listen to him Fiona,” Leon said to her in a firm voice. He held her gaze. “He’s lying. He’s only trying to upset you. Don’t let him.”

Harrison pulled out Leon’s gun from the holster and aimed it at Riccardo who was rolling around and laughing.

“I’ve changed my mind. This low-life scum is just a waste of air.”

The satisfactory smile on Riccardo’s face made Fiona realize what he was planning.

“Noooo,” she screamed and ran towards Harrison. “Don’t shoot. That is what he wants.” The British agent stared back at her with a bewildered look. Riccardo stopped laughing. Fiona explained. “He wants us to shoot him and leave him here to die. But he can’t die. He will come back, stronger than ever. And then he’ll be coming for us. I know this sounds insane, but…”

“No, actually it doesn’t. From my experience here, I’m willing to believe that,” John said.

“Yeah, me too,” Leon agreed.

Riccardo had gone silent.

“Now what?” Harrison asked.

“I have an idea,” Leon said. “Gimme a hand, John.”

As the sun rose, the two men carried a struggling Riccardo out of the forest while Fiona walked a few steps behind carrying Hewie. Outside the front gate, Fiona and Hewie enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun as Harrison opened the back of the car and took out a thick cable. The agents tied up an angry Riccardo to a tree nearby. He was shouting obscenities and both men had to use all their willpower to not punch his nose up his brain.

“This thing can withstand a force of 30 tons,” Harrison said. “He’s not getting anywhere.”

“You can’t do this to me,” Riccardo shouted at John and Leon as they walked back to the car where Fiona and Hewie were waiting. “I am a great alchemist. I cannot be defeated. I will come back. I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon called back over his shoulder and opened the front door. “We’re gonna leave you now, but don’t you worry. Some nice people are on their way and I’ll make sure they pick you up.”

Fiona climbed into the backseat, placed Hewie gently next to her on top of Leon’s jacket and fastened the seatbelt. Leon insisted on driving as Harrison’s leg still hadn’t fully healed and he ordered him to go to the hospital and have an x-ray taken. Harrison insisted he was fine, didn’t need to see a doctor and was fully capable of driving. Leon won the discussion. Fiona stroked Hewie on the head and told him that everything would be fine. The dog was exhausted and could barely keep his eyes up. The car started rolling and he soon fell asleep at the soothing hum of the engine. Fiona stared out the window, painful memories of the fatal crash only two days earlier stirred up inside her. Her parents were dead and a part of her had died with them, but she had to move on. She had to keep living. Leon looked at her through the rear-view mirror.

“You guys okay back there?”

Fiona nodded and managed a weak smile. Truth be said, when Leon around, it wasn’t that hard to smile. Not even under the worst circumstances.

“When we get to the nearest town, I’ll make sure you and Hewie get looked at by a doctor.” He turned to look at Harrison. “And that goes for you too.”

Fiona couldn’t believe this nightmare had finally come to an end. Still, even though she was beat, it was hard to relax. She wanted to sleep but was wide-awake and couldn’t even close her eyes to rest. Half an hour later Leon pulled over to allow the police and other, unmarked cars to pass on the narrow road. After another 30 minutes, Harrison got the report that they’d found the place and that Riccardo had been apprehended. As soon as Fiona heard he’d been taken into custody, she collapsed on top of Hewie and fell asleep before her head touched his white fur.

Harrison noticed how Leon, who was being unusually quiet, threw stolen glances at Fiona in the mirror every two second. And by the look that he was sending her, it was not out of professional concern for an ‘extricated subject’. The girl was lovely, but he knew it was more than just physical attraction. In fact, he was wondering if the government agent had already fallen for the young woman. One thing was certain; the woman in red would no longer haunt his best friend’s mind. She now had to step aside for a radiant young girl with beautiful, jade eyes.

Leon noticed Harrison looking at him. He glanced in his direction and cooked a smile. They’d enjoyed working together. Besides a few hiccups, especially in the beginning, everything had turned fairly smoothly. They’d saved the girl and put the perpetrator behind bars where he belonged.

Mission accomplished.


	26. Epilogue and A/N

A spine-chilling, high-pitch scream stirred Fiona awake. A scream from inside her head. Breathing heavily, she sat up in her Queen Size bed, her soaking wet nightgown clinging to her shivering body. Once again, she’d been reliving the nightmares of Belli castle in her sleep. She knew there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Instead, she threw a quick glance to her side, got up and tip toed barefoot down to the kitchen where she made herself a nice cup of camomile tea. In the living room, she lit a lavender candle and drew in the soothing scent. There. She was already feeling better. She sat down in a rocking chair, tucked her legs in a thin blanket and sipped the warm, tranquillising brewery while looking out the window. The diamond ring on her left hand glimmered in the soft moonlight. In the distance, the Washington monument lit up the dark sky like a giant phallus.

Hewie came up to where Fiona was sitting and put his head on her lap. Fiona started rubbing the faithful dog behind his ears. After years of endless nightmares, late rendezvous had turned into a nightly routine.

“Three years,” she whispered to herself. She couldn’t believe three years had passed since the death of her parents and that horrible night in Belli Castle. She still missed them like crazy. It was like a wound that would never heal. Fortunately, she had her family and friends to support her. Her youngest aunt, who was now expecting her first child, had taken over her parents’ old house in London. Moving to The United Stated far away from her aunts and her childhood friend had been a tough decision, but in England everything reminded her of her parents. She needed a fresh start with the man she loved.

When her story had leaked to the press, it had turned into quite the media circus and Belli castle could no longer hold on to its anonymity. Fiona had managed to keep a low profile and her name had never been revealed in public but being constantly reminded of the nightmare she’d been through had been tough. Riccardo had been right about one thing though. The castle was indeed hers, but as she wanted nothing to do with it, and had sold it to the first bidder. She’d put away some of the money earned from the sale for education and accommodation, the rest she’d given away to animals and children in need. The property was now under the care of the government and had been turned into a museum of sorts. Apparently, it was a popular destination for pilgrims.

Debilitas, the giant, had been terrified when the police broke into the castle and they had been forced to sedate him. He was now living at a place in Europe that specialized in handling the mentally challenged where he was gradually learning to socialize with others and handle his own strength and excitement. If he managed to keep his dolls in one piece for a full day, he was given a reward. He was happy there and, according to the keepers, the garden had never looked better. Fiona had visited him there once and he’d given her a hug. A normal hug that did not threaten to crush her torso. A big step in the right direction. It was also expected that with proper training, he would eventually be able to communicate like a seven-year-old child.

The maid, Daniella, had not been equally blessed. According to the autopsy report, the parts of her brain dealing with empathy, emotions, reflections and such had proven to be deformed and highly abnormal. Some areas and neural junctions had even been missing altogether. She would never have been able to live a normal life. Not even Azoth could’ve saved her. It also meant she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions. She’d been acting in despair, desperately in search for a life that she could never have, and she could not have understood the consequences of her actions. Fiona had forgiven her everything.

Riccardo on the other hand, was a different story. She could never forgive what he’d done to her. He was the one responsible for everything that had happened to her and her parents. He was now locked behind bars for life in a high-secure jail in Europe, but Fiona still feared that one day he would escape and come for her. Or even worse, what if he came after… Fiona shivered. It was one of her most frequent nightmares together with the burning corpse. Lorenzo had been drinking her blood… Had Aureolus Belli really been resurrected, or had it been just another unhappy clone? She’d never know. Lorenzo was dead, and Riccardo wasn’t speaking to anyone. He used to read books about medieval history in the prison library, and then toss them in all directions screaming in rage that they were empty, deceiving and far from the great truth. He’d never spoken again and didn’t want to socialize with the other inmates. He was just sitting in his cell, writing the same Latin phrase on the walls over and over: _alterius non sit qui suus esse potest_ , - let no man that can belong to himself be of another.

Fiona rose, blew out the candle and walked out to the kitchen with the empty teacup. Hewie went back to bed. His injured paw had healed completely, and he had no problem jumping or running. The scar on Fiona’s thigh was almost invisible too. A sound made her go back upstairs. She opened a door and peeked into the small room. Just as she thought, the baby was awake. She walked over to the cradle, lifted her seven-month baby boy and sat down on a chair to give him some milk. Becoming a mother was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her, though it was hard too since she was still in college. She would be graduating next year, and she was hoping to land a job at the UN or Amnesty International. She wanted to promote human rights where there were none and be a spokesperson for innocent people fallen victim of kidnapping and torture.

“Nightmares again?”

Fiona turned and saw a drowsy Leon leaning on the door. Her face softened and she sent him a warm smile. She shifted in her chair so Leon could sit down next to them.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Leon shook his head and hugged her close. “You know I can always tell when you’re not there next to me, sweetheart,” he whispered, caressing her hair with his fingers.

Fiona stroked his chin and touched his bare chest. Leon always knew when to say. The baby had fallen asleep and Leon carried him back to his bed.

“Sleep tight Josh,” he whispered, stroking his son’s head.

Fiona felt the familiar lump in her chest. Joshua would never know his grandparents. Her parents never got to see her get married. Her father had not been there to walk her down the aisle and her mother had not been sitting on first row, crying of happiness. Leon slumped back in the chair.

“I promise I’ll cut down on work from now on,” he assured his young wife. Fiona nodded and her eyes filled with gratitude. A returning subject of their rare fights had been Leon’s travelling hours. However, no matter how much the job as a Special Government Agent and the thrill accompanying it meant to him, Fiona and Josh meant so much more.

“C’mon, let’s get back to bed honey,” he said and started to rise.

Fiona shrugged. “What would be the point, I won’t be able sleep anyway.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Leon asked and cooked a smile.

Fiona raised both her eyebrows and hit Leon’s chest with her elbow. Leon moaned and pretended to sink to the floor. Then she returned his cheeky grin. A tingle in her stomach was gradually moving south.

An hour later, she was sound asleep in Leon’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was Haunting Ground that made me the avid and dedicated gamer I am today, made me get involved in online gaming communities, found inspiration to draw and write fan fiction and meeting some lovely people over the years. The game had such an impact on me when I first played it, and still today it remains one of my favourite games of all times. I was so awestruck, I had to 'get it out of my system' somehow.
> 
> I wanted to offer something not just for long-term fans but for people who hadn't experienced Haunting Ground as well. Fiona's Nightmare is written for anyone, even if you've never heard of Haunting Ground before. Narration is quite detailed and I find it amusing how people have even used it as a walkthrough.
> 
> I added some of my own headcanons as off-screen events and dwelled deep into characterization, elaborating the different character's thoughts, relations and motivations as I interpreted them. I tried to cover what the canon don't show, like what happened between the ending in the House of Truth and unlocking the main gate. I also wanted to include the investigation of Ugo and Ayla's murder and Fiona's dissapearence as we learn nothing of that in the game itself. During my many playthroughs I often wondered about the outside world. Surely someone must've found the wreckage and the bodies of her parents? To what extent (if any) did Riccardo go to cover his tracks? Surely Fiona must've been reported missing, someone must be looking for her. I wanted to provide my own answers to these questions. It also gave me the perfect excuse to introduce Leon, as I'm a huge LeonxFiona shipper, and include a RE4-themed exploration of Belli castle. Yet, the story was almost halfway done before I made the final decision of including him.
> 
> If you're still here, thank you so much. Hope you enjoyed. Peace out!


End file.
